Page 61 of No Questions Asked

“Are you sure you want to do this, Slash?” Natelli asked. “Think about the consequences.”

He turned around slowly. “What consequences exactly do you want me to think about?”

“Well, how can we be sure Lexi is there?” Natelli said gently. “It could be a false signal or someone else has the phone. Going into that area is going to be extremely dangerous. You could get hurt or killed.”

“She has a point,” Lilith said. “I don’t want to put you, or anyone else, in danger even if it means trying to save Lexi.”

Slash kept his voice even. “You’re not putting me in danger. This is my decision, not yours.”

“I think Slash should go,” Gwen piped up. “He can take care of himself, and we need to know if that’s Lexi sending us a distress signal or not. If it’s her, she needs us. If it’s not, well, at least maybe we can find out where she is or what happened to her.”

Slash glanced at Gwen, mildly surprised she was brave enough to stand up to those who seemed to be leaning toward an uncomfortable consensus against him. Although he didn’t need her approval to go, he appreciated her vote of confidence.

His mind made up, he reached under his desk and pulled out his backpack. He slung it over his shoulder before yanking down the map and folding it. “Okay, here’s what I know from a situational standpoint. According to my calculations, the area where the satellite phone pinged is within range of a helicopter, even if I take two more people with me. I don’t want to ask anyone to risk their lives, but if Vicente and Salvador are willing to volunteer to accompany me, I’d appreciate it. I need both of your skills. That being said, it’s likely to be dangerous and I understand if you’d prefer not to come.”

To his surprise, Vicente immediately stepped forward. “I’m in. Let’s find her and bring her back.”

“I like Lexi. I’ll go, too,” Salvador said. “You’ll definitely need me, although I must confess I’ve never been in this area before. But I’m generally familiar with the terrain and I’ll do my best to get you there.”

“Thank you.”

For the first time, Martim exhaled heavily and moved forward until he stood face to face with Slash. “I’m afraid everyone is forgetting the most important part here. Danger is not your only problem. That’s protected territory. You’d need approval from the Brazilian government in order to enter the area.”

“Well, Martim, you’re a government representative who could authorize the rescue,” Salvador said, a tinge of exasperation in his voice. “So, what’s the problem?”

“The problem is, I forbid it.” He put a hand on Slash’s shoulder. “I will not have people running amok, trying to find a woman who got herself lost in the jungle, and endangering indigenous tribes that prefer to remain uncontacted.”

In one quick movement, Slash pinned Martim against the wall, his forearm pressed against the minister’s neck. His voice was hard. “Try to stop me.”

It was telling that no one stepped in to protect the minister. Martim swallowed hard. “Of course. If that’s what you feel you must do.”

Slash dropped his forearm and Martim stumbled away, clutching his throat.

“We leave in thirty minutes,” Slash said. “Grab your gear and meet me at one of the jeeps.” Without another word, he strode from the lab.

No one stopped him.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Martim Alves

He was going to make that American pay if it was the last thing he did.

That man had actually put his hands on him—an important government minister. He didn’t know how they did things in America, but in Brazil, politicians were important people, deserving the utmost respect and deference.

Now things were going badly and fast. As soon as the American had stated his intention to travel to the area, Martim knew he had to get word to his contact.

He’d immediately ordered one of the guards at the research center to take him to Coari. Once he got there, he checked into the hotel room that had been reserved for him whenever he came into town. He opened his laptop and tried to log into his bank account. It took forever for the connection to come through, and after five minutes had passed and the little ball on his computer was still spinning, he cursed and hit his hand against the desk.

“What kind of backwater town is this?” He pushed away from the desk, disgusted. “It has the slowest Internet in the county.”

He paced around the room for another five minutes before the connection was finally made. When he finally got into his bank account, he saw with satisfaction that the money had been deposited as promised.

“Those stupid Indians are so gullible,” he muttered. “I can’t believe they bought my story about needing additional money to keep officials pacified.”

Apparently in India, you had to keep rebuying a politician or government official. That was not the way in Brazil. Once bought, you had to keep your promises, otherwise you were likely to find yourself out of business or, more likely, dead. After all, word tended to get around about people who kept their hands out for more. That one-time pricing certainly drove up the initial investment cost, but it reduced the uncertainty of what would have to be paid down the line. For those who wanted to grow their revenue, the key was offering to provide additional services.

He wasn’t surprised they’d jumped on the bait when he offered to procure actual vials of the vaccine. It was so unfortunate that those low-level cartel enforcers were so incompetent. He’d set it up perfectly and did everything but heist the vaccines himself. And what had happened?

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