Уильям Мейкл - Operation - Congo

“I wouldn’t recommend trying, Wiggo. You got a fag? I’m gasping here.”

Debs was as good as her word and stayed by Hynd all the way down the river, sitting up close to his back while he paddled, sharing his smokes and not speaking much at all. It was only when they reached and then passed the ruined WHO station and village that she showed signs of relaxing.

Up front of the canoe, the captain got out his sat phone and attempted a call to HQ in Scotland. After ten minutes or so of navigating farther down the river, he finally got through. Hynd knew that meant there would be a pick up and extraction somewhere in there near future, but for now, at least he could enjoy the river and the company.

“We’re home free now, aren’t we, Sarge?” Debs said, her arms reaching around his waist.

“Aye, I think we are at that, lass. Can I buy you a drink to celebrate when we get somewhere civilized?”

“You can buy me a bucketful,” she replied. “I think we all need it.”

“Amen to that,” Wiggins said from in front of Hynd. “It’s about time the sarge got a round in.”

Debs nudged Hynd in the back and when he turned, she pointed down the canoe.

“Like I said earlier,” she said. “I’m not the only one who made a conquest here today.”

Wilkins was paddling and the dark-haired Frenchman had his arms around the young soldier’s waist, head leaned forward to nuzzle his neck.

“Close your mouth, Wiggo,” Debs said. “You’re catching flies.”

The crocodilian exploded forward unleashing a geyser of black water that shot upwards of eight feet. The sudden burst of energy pulled tight the crossbow bolt embedded just behind the massive dragon’s skull, snagging the barb tight against its inch-thick hide, releasing a rivulet of blood that shone purple in the half moon light. The beast dove beneath the surface of the Rio Negro and the force of the dive pulled floating debris and even small fish behind and into its wake.

Ross studied the beast in the darkness then called out, “Now!”

Kade pulled the rope and looped it around the forward cleat. The rope snapped tight and the wooden craft jerked forward, sending Kade backward and to the floor of the craft. He shot upward in embarrassment and held tight to the gunwales as the boat launched forward.

Ross laughed aloud at his mate’s mishap then watched as the sisal rope strained tighter and tighter.

Then fell slack.

The boat drifted to a dead stop.

The river fell into a deafening silence.

Kade held his breath, afraid to break the moment or to draw attention to his being.

“He’s gone under,” Ross whispered to himself. He scanned the glass-still waters in every direction and clenched his teeth as he continued watching for signs. Something unknown called to him.

A feeling.

Experience.

He looked to his bare feet planted firmly in the half inch deep puddle in the bottom of the boat.

Did he feel something?

Or did he know something?

“He’s under the boat,” Ross mumbled. He turned to a pale faced Kade and smiled. “Hands in boy!”

Kade’s eyes doubled in size. He jerked his hands toward his body just as four foot of jaws exploded from the water. The beast slammed its head against the boat, its jaws spread wide in search of the source of its torment. A bellowing moan brought forth the sudden smell of rot mixed with the coppery tinge of blood. Ross pulled the rusted .45 revolver from the holster at his hip. The leviathan dove forward and down. Its telephone pole-sized tail swung wildly then slammed against the side of the boat. The craft jerked forward and sped through the water as it was pulled by over 16 feet of black caiman.

Kade fell backward and against the floor once more and he cursed wildly in his native Portuguese as he righted himself. Ross holstered his pistol and fought to keep steady and stand erect in the ever-jostling craft.

“The size of that beast!” Ross exclaimed to the night. “That’s a hell’uva lot a hide! A goddamn New York lady’s whole set of luggage and then some!”

Kade smiled and nervously offered, “Is big” in broken English.

Ross stared ahead, watching the beast drive forward. The ridges of the crocodile’s back cut through the water like a shark’s dorsal fin and its tail undulated side to side in a frenzy of power and strength like some metronome confined to a fevered dream. The black figure dove yet again, and the boat slowed to a coast and then again to a dead halt. Kade put his hands in his armpits just in case and bounced his eyes back and forth to all sides of the boat, searching for the attack that he knew was coming.

It didn’t.

There was only stillness.

The sounds of men in wait.

The water at the rope’s length before the boat boiled.

Ross and Kade stared at the disturbance in anticipation of what was to come. The ink black water exploded with the force of a lightning strike. The black caiman’s tail rose from the depths in a manner seemingly impossible. The tail pointed straight upward as if aiming at some distant constellation. The tail shot further upward and the water wretched forth a set of jaws that completely engulfed the crocodilian and held it aloft. A serpentine form towered from the water then arched backward in a blur of motion. Its jaws opened wider and the crocodile slid downward and into the dinosaur-sized snake.

“Mother of God!” Ross exclaimed.

“ Yacumama !” Kade echoed. “ Yacumama !”

Ross watched in disbelief as the last of the crocodile was swallowed. Shock gave way to panic as his eyes trained on the slack rope hanging from the snake’s clenched jaws.

“Cut it!” Ross shouted. “Cut the rope!”

Kade reached for a machete sheathed along the interior wall of the boat.

“Do it boy! Cut the rope!” Ross screamed as he launched for the outboard motor’s starter rope.

The snake homed in on the sudden noise and movement and snapped its head back in confusion. The rope jerked tight and the boat shot forward and upward and out of the water like a cork from a champagne bottle. Kade was thrown from the boat and into the water. The force of the impact knocked the breath from him. He fought to breathe but instead inhaled several mouthfuls of river water. He sunk below the surface and fought the depths in panic. He fought and clawed his way back to the surface. He broke through and into the darkness of the evening and simultaneously coughed and gasped for air.

He heard a pistol shot and spun around in the water just in time to see the snake plunge downward with mouth agape toward Ross in the boat. The beast’s jaws closed tight around Ross’ lower torso then raised its head and the human form within it toward the moon. Ross’ legs kicked wildly in the air then disappeared into the creature’s maw.

Kade shook in fright. He fought to scream, to vocalize his shock and disbelief but was unable to. The snake lowered its head in Kade’s direction then dove beneath the water. Ross fought to gather his thoughts, fought to allow his brain to conjure a way out of the nightmare before him. A sudden rush of water engulfed him and the air was squeezed from his body. He felt himself rise from the water then realized he was trapped in the coils of the monstrous snake. The nightmare’s head shot through the darkness and stopped less than a foot from Kade’s face. Kade stared into the snake’s coal black eyes and prayed that his death would be quick.