James Rollins - Altar Of Eden

It was the only thing that made sense. Duncan had already explained to Bennett about the Cajun in the ball cap.

“If they had any real government backing,” Duncan continued, “there’d be a stronger response. Warships and helicopters. In some ways, I think this is just a fishing expedition. To see if Dr. Polk is still alive. But who knows how long that will last? A government response could already be mustering.”

“What do you recommend?”

“A scorched-earth policy.”

Bennett’s eyes widened. He glanced to Duncan for clarification.

“If these bastards know about Lost Eden Cay, others will, too. We’ve lost control. We’re now too exposed. We have to accept that reality and deal with it aggressively.”

“How aggressively?”

“We evacuate, burn both islands to the bedrock, kill everyone still out there. Leave no trace. With no trail back to us, we can start again somewhere else. It’ll be a setback, but we won’t be dead in the water.”

Bennett sighed with a note of resignation. He turned to the blasted windows that overlooked the cove and mumbled. “ ‘So the Lord God banished him from the Garden of Eden.’ ”

Duncan pressed him. “Sir?”

Another sigh followed. “I see your point. We don’t have any choice. After all the problems here, a clean start might be good. Malik is already securing the last of our viral samples and all his records. We can be ready and at the helipad in fifteen minutes.”

“Better make that ten,” Duncan warned.

“What about Dr. Polk?”

“I’ve already taken care of that problem.”

Bennett looked resigned, but he’d get over it. Duncan was paid big money to make the hard decisions and carry them out.

“What’s the immediate plan of action?” Bennett asked, changing the subject.

Duncan nodded to the video feed. “To close that back door. To make sure we have no more surprises during our evacuation. I have a team headed down to ambush the group from the Zodiac. The bastards will be pinned down against the fence and the jet boats.”

“What about the other side?”

Duncan stared at the cluster of red blips on the computer monitor. It was time to put an end to Malik’s failed experiment, to raze it to the ground. As a precaution, he’d seeded the entire island with napalm charges. Over a hundred. The resulting firestorm would destroy all life in a matter of minutes. And anyone who tried to escape would be picked off by the sharpshooters in the jet boats.

Reaching to a pocket, Duncan removed a radio transmitter. He’d taken it from his office safe before coming up here. Two buttons glowed on the unit.

One was tuned to the buried charges on the other island.

The second would ignite a pair of massive bombs built into the infrastructure of the villa: one in the upper building, the other in the subterranean lab. With the blast equivalent to forty-four tons of TNT, the bombs would blow the top off the island, literally wiping it from the map.

But that would have to wait.

He flipped the trigger guard over the first button.

Bennett gaped at the transmitter. “What? You’re blowing up the other island now?”

“No time like the present.”

Duncan pressed the button.

That takes care of one problem.

Jack felt the tremble under his feet. Then the blast hit him, sounding like the earth cracking behind him. He swung around to watch the top of the island blow away in a spiral of smoke and fire. More charges blew in a series.

Boom, boom, boom…

Eruptions of flames chased around the island in a descending spiral, adding to the hellish maelstrom. The firestorm continued to blast its way toward the beach. A tower of black smoke climbed into the sky. Jack smelled the distinct odor of napalm.

They’re torching the place.

Mack shoved next to him. He had to yell to be heard above the continuing detonations. “What now?”

Bruce took matters into his own hands. It was death to remain in the forest. The only escape lay across the land bridge. The man dove out onto the open strand, staying low. He blasted away at one of the jet boats, but the vehicles never stopped moving, swerving and spinning chaotically, making for near-impossible targets. Rounds that reached them merely pinged off their reinforced hulls.

Return fire peppered the shore. Sand exploded around Bruce-then a round hit his shoulder and spun him, blood spraying.

Crap…

A shift in winds blew hot smoke over their position. The stink of napalm burned Jack’s lungs. With no choice, he sprinted out of hiding toward Bruce. His teammate was down on one knee. Bruce shifted his weapon to his good shoulder and continued to fire.

Mack flanked Jack, shooting at the other jet boat.

Behind them, the firestorm swept toward the beach.

Each boom sounded closer.

Across the land bridge, Randy’s group laid down a suppressive salvo, too, recognizing the danger Jack’s team was facing. But they made no headway. Pinned down as they were from both sides, the stretch of sand was impossible to cross. They’d be mowed down before they could even reach the fence.

Jack grabbed Bruce, ready to haul him back.

But back to where?

As he turned, a charge detonated only a handful of yards into the forest. Trees blew high in a column of flame. The blast knocked Jack onto his back, scorching across him. His vision narrowed to a tunnel. He choked on smoke.

Mack barreled into him and rolled him into the water’s edge as gunfire ripped across the sand, nearly taking his head off.

Half in the water, Jack recognized the hard truth.

There was no escape.

FROM THE SECURITY nest, Duncan watched the napalm charges blast along the top of the island and spiral down toward the beach, razing to ash all in their fiery path. In engineering the demolition, he had timed the charges to blow in sequence, to ensure maximum incineration.

He smiled as he watched the trio of men struggle in the sand-trapped between flames and gunfire.

They were doomed.

Bennett stood at his shoulder, but he took a step back. He’d seen enough. “Dear God…”

God had nothing to do with this.

The charges continued to explode into whirlwinds of flame, one after the other, adding to the conflagration, spreading relentlessly toward the water.

As he lorded over the destruction with a deep sense of satisfaction, he noted movement in the forest. Figures darted into view. From their naked shapes, they had to be his missing inhabitants. His smile grew harder. Apparently the forest had grown too hot even for them.

But they’d find no salvation out in the open.

Still, something about their manner jangled a warning. There were only four of them. So where were the others? He leaned closer. What were they up to?

STILL SEATED IN the water, half dazed, Jack noted movement at the edge of the smoky forest. Four figures stepped into the open. They split into pairs and headed to either side.

Each pair hauled a sling of woven palm fronds between them. The slings were weighted down with black metal canisters that looked like small pony kegs. Each pair swung their slings and tossed their cargoes high into the air.

The canisters toppled end over end.

One toward each jet boat.

As they flew, the entire bestial force burst out of the forest and onto the bridge: men and women, massively muscled cats, vicious packs of wolfish dogs. Some creatures Jack couldn’t recognize. One giant loped past him, knuckling on pairs of curved razor-sharp claws. Others followed, streaming past.

Behind the force, the last of the napalm charges reached the beach and exploded in a wall of flames. Jack rolled into the water to keep from burning. Twisting, he watched one of the flying canisters fall toward the jet boat. The nimble craft sped clear.