Expedition to the Unknown

Chapter 11

Claire stood on the foredeck looking out over the passing shoreline as the Lírio do Rio slid through the morning mist rising over the river. She hadn"t been sleeping the last few nights because her mind was preoccupied with the miscarriage and the tenuous state of the expedition. She looked up at the ever-brightening pre-dawn sky that was threatening rain and eyed the mist-laden riverbank. In the gloom, tall reeds and water grasses waved in a subtle wind. Above them, drooped broad, pumpkin-shaped leaves flopping back and forth on pod-heavy limbs. Down river, flitting shadows skimmed the watery surface.

Against the serene indifference of the river, the Lírio do Rio"s diesel engine thrummed . It was not an alien sound to her. She had grown up around diesels as a kid, spending a lot of time in her father"s shadow while at the shipyards of Annapolis. This one was a Fairbanks-Morse that should have been retired years ago. She listened to the compressors huffing and puffing below deck, driving the opposing-piston leviathan with heaving strokes. Hopefully the beast would deliver them to Santo Antonio do Içá before hurling its last breath into the air.

The wind picked up, strafing the surface of the water. In the distance, thunder rumbled. Claire liked the sound of thunder along with a soaking rain. It settled her when she felt troubled and uncertain about life. Gathering her hair into a knot, she shoved it under her Giant"s baseball cap and pulled the collar of her blouse snug around her neck. Why all this, and why now?

Why all this, and why now?She couldn"t get the image of her miscarried child out of her mind. She sighed and stood quietly by the rail for some time, trying to figure things out. But no matter how hard she tried to put reasons to actions, she couldn"t find an answer. Then her mother"s soft, clear voice came to her from out of the past. God is tapping you on the shoulder, Claire. Listen to him!

God is tapping you on the shoulder, Claire. Listen to him!She shook her head. It had been too long since she"d prayed, and she wasn"t sure how to begin or even if she wanted to. She wasn"t sure she wanted to hear what He had to tell her, especially if it had anything to do with the email she received last night from Noah.

She could still see the imbedded note in it from a friend of Noah"s in her mind"s eye. It reported that Owen had grown up in the sss amongst the tribes, joining them and aiding their resistance against the government-run copper mining industry. But it was the final paragraph in the email that jolted her. Owen had lost a ten-year-old son.

It certainly explained a lot about the enigmatic Kiwi. She looked down into the eddying water rushing past the hull of the boat, reconsidering her recurring thought; was he using her expedition for his own purposes? Maybe he really wasn"t that devious. The revelation about his son left her conflicted.

Did she owe him an apology for not putting up with his cave-man attitudes; for calling the shots as she saw them at the breakfast table the other morning? A slight twinge coursed through her abdomen. She took a breath and waited for it to pass. The boat groaned, bobbed, and shifted its direction slightly to port. She glanced up to the bridge and saw Owen out on the afterdeck standing with the quartermaster. Whether he knew she was below him, she couldn"t guess, but she had a good idea he did. Not too many things slipped past the Kiwi"s keen observations. She saw him lift his field glass to his eyes, look up river, and point to something. A moment later he was gone, and shortly after that, the boat veered hard to port, heading for a small sheltered cove.

Behind her, came the running of feet and orders being barked out. One of the crewmen ran up to her. “Best to go inside.”

“Why? What"s going on?” Claire said alarmed.

The man pointed to a dark speck moving toward them from way up river. “Jet boat. FARC coming.”

Suddenly, Owen pushed through the boat"s main deck outer doors. He waved his arms at her, urging her to move it. Claire felt the crewman"s hand on her back pushing her toward Owen and the open door.

“Hurry it up,” Owen shouted.

When Claire came under the canopy of the upper deck and saw Owen"s tense expression, she put aside her need-to-know-right-then and went inside. The crewman led her to the lower deck and showed her to a small, tight compartment forward of the main engine room. Holding the door open to it, was Manny. She looked at him hard.

“Jet boats are coming down the river bearing armed men from the cartels,” he said. “Sometimes they board cargo boats looking for supplies. If they find pretty senhoritas, there is no telling what they will do.”

Claire felt her body stiffen.

Manny looked away.

Suddenly, Owen"s warning three nights ago came roaring back. So, Owen wasn"t kidding when he told me about the skin traders? Just then, Molly, Thad, and Jorge showed up, bleary eyed and annoyed, along with a member of the ship"s crew.

So, Owen wasn"t kidding when he told me about the skin traders?Claire stepped into the small compartment and waved them in. Manny hardened his face and eyed Claire. “You must be quiet until I come get you. Very important, okay?” He pointed toward a large wooden crate. “When I shut the door, push that in front of it, and do not remove it until you hear me come back. I will knock three times, wait, then knock twice more.”

Claire nodded, her gaze never leaving the venerable director until he pulled the door shut behind him. When she heard the click of the lock, her heart skipped. Turning toward Thad and Jorge, she said, “Okay, let"s get that in front of it, like he said.”

Fifteen minutes later, they heard the lock click. Every muscle in Claire"s body tensed. For an interminable few moments it felt like all the air had left the room until suddenly they heard three knocks. Thad moved toward the crate, but Claire reached out and stopped him. Putting her finger to her lips, she mouthed the words, “not yet”, and waited fitfully for the follow-up knocks. When it came, she let out the breath. Finally she nodded to Thad and Jorge, and a minute later the crate was pushed aside and the door opened with Manny and Owen standing outside.

“That was quick,” Thad said to Manny as he stepped out.

“Si. We were lucky. They passed by us very fast.”

Owen shot Claire what she believed was a genuine look of apology, but it was more than apologetic. There was something else there. Fearfulness maybe? She couldn"t tell. He stepped back as she came out. “We all need ta talk, but let"s get our legs under us first, eh?”

The team gathered in Lírio do Rio"s mess hall a half hour later around four tables that were pushed together. Owen sat hunched over his cup of coffee and looked at each member of the team in turn. His gaze lingered longest on Claire.

“Folks, we have a game changer here,” Owen said. “If the FARC is riding da river this far downstream, there"s something going on, an" t"ain"t good.”

“What"s this FARC?” Molly said.

“They"re a para-military organization out of Columbia with ties ta d**g cartels. Most of their business is up north so we weren"t worried about "em too much,” Owen said.

“But now they are moving south,” Manny put in.

“Moving south?” Claire said. “You sound as if you knew this already.”

“We had our suspicions, but no one knows what really goes on down river,” Manny said.

“So, how come we"re just hearing about this now?” Thad said, annoyance in his voice.

“Like Manny said, it was just a suspicion, an" we didn"t want ta frighten ya for no reason,” Owen said.

Thad shook his head and kicked back in his chair. “Un-f*****g believable. Jesus, you didn"t think we might just be a little bit interested in knowing about this before we got on the goddamned boat!”

“Thad,” Claire said. “Enough.” She looked at Owen and said, “What now?”

Owen sat back in his chair. “My job is ta guide ya ta this bushman, but bringing ya back safe an" sound trumps it.”

“Meaning?” Claire said, pretty sure she knew where this was heading.

Owen stared back at her as if gauging what she might say to his decided response. At last, he said, “Meaning, once we get ta Santo Antonio, I"m thinking on turning this gig around.”

Thad opened his mouth then shut it. Molly gritted her teeth and looked down. Jorge stared off into the empty space behind them. Claire took a deep breath. This trip was turning into a colossal mess. She looked upward. Why? Everything she had done for the last five years, the reams of grant applications she had written, the arm twisting, cajoling and yes, even begging for this expedition was evaporating right in front of her.

She closed her eyes. If this ends here, it"s over. I"ll never get back. Everything I"ve worked for will be lost. She debated what to do. Too much had already been taken away from her. Hardening her resolve, she looked at Owen and cleared her throat. “I appreciate your concern, and I agree, the safety of our team is paramount. But do we know for sure they"ll be anywhere near where we"re going?”

. If this ends here, it"s over. I"ll never get back. Everything I"ve worked for will be lost.Manny raised a brow.

“Wait, hear me out,” Claire said as Owen opened his mouth. “They"re past us, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but we don"t know where they"re heading. Could be five or thirty "K" down river.”

“Or it could be a hundred,” Claire said. “Look, why don"t we play it by ear? If we see them again, we turn around and go back. But if we don"t, I don"t see how it endangers us going into the forest.”

Everyone looked at Owen.

“It"s not about pinching or flogging boats, Claire,” Owen replied. “They have interests inland. Da stuff they take usually supplies their bases.”

“But how far inland are they? Deep?”

Manny said, “Probably not. They need the river.”

“That"s exactly my point,” Claire said. “We"re going deep into the forest. What are the chances of running into them? You said you know the way, Owen. If nothing else, why couldn"t we go round about and avoid them?”

Owen was quiet a moment. Finally, he said, “Who knows. Ya may be right, but it"s still risky.” He waved his hand out over the table toward the team. “Ya all willing ta chance it?”

Thad spoke up. “I wanna go on. At least as far as Claire suggests.”

Jorge"s gaze came back to the table. “Me, too. I did not come all this way to turn around.”

Claire looked at Molly. “What about you?”

Molly looked up, determination in her eyes. “Yeah, at least give it a shot.”

Owen ran his hand over his face. “All right, we"ll give it a go. But if I see another boat, we"re turning back, no if, ands, or buts.”

Claire nodded. “Agreed.”

They all sat with their decision a minute, then got up one by one and left the table until it was just Owen and Claire left. She stood and came beside him. “I"m sorry for what I said to you the other morning. It wasn"t very nice.”

“Yeah, me too.”