Free Unacceptable Risk by David Dun Page A

them this morning," Marita said.
     
    "But you're here."
     
    "They are estrangeiros. I am Matses."
     
    "Do you know why they have come?"
     
    "The same reason as before, when the man killed your wife. They are looking for your experiments."
     
    Michael stood again. "You're sure this man killed my wife?"
     
    "Yes. He took your things too."
     
    "You saw him do this?"
     
    "I did."
     
    "Tell me."
     
    "It's better not to talk about it. She fought and they killed her. They were trying to ... hurt her."
     
    "But only one of these new men is the same."
     
    "Yes. They call him Cy. The other men ... I think they are very bad too."
     
    "What do you think you can do?"
     
    "I want to kill them."
     
    "We have police."
     
    "Where? These men will break the police like little sticks. And the police won't follow if they go into Brazil."
     
    "Soldiers?"
     
    "These men will be here and they will kill and hurt Matses and they will be gone before the soldiers arrive."
     
    "We could leave and try to get everyone out of San Jose."
     
    "Matses men? Run? They already think I am unruly and crazy. They will say I have bewitched you."
     
     

He thought for a moment and nodded. He had never seriously considered killing anyone. Even when he found his wife's brutalized remains, killing did not become his dream. His first rule of life was to do no harm. But then to kill this kind was to prevent harm. Perhaps his first rule of life could use some rethinking.
     
    "Did they hurt you?"
     
    "No."
     
    He was surprised at the almost physical sense of relief he felt at her answer.
     
    "They hurt my sister, and killed my child," she said. "Before my sister escaped...," she trailed off. "She is different now."
     
    His throat thickened and he hesitated. He still did not know for certain if there was a connection between his wife's death and this group. Or if so, who exactly was responsible for Eden's murder. He looked to Marita. Her eyes said what he scarcely dared to think: one, at least, among these men was a murderer and rapist, and that was enough.
     
    He stood. "How will we find him?"
     
    "They will walk along the small creeks. The way the land lies they will eventually find the trail from Herrera to San Jose. Like any estrangeiro they will stay on it because the jungle is thick."
     
    "Probably." Quickly he went back inside and pulled two military M-16 rifles from a footlocker. He had bought these guns only after Eden's murder. He grabbed a backpack already loaded with the basics—knives, lighters, water, and the like. He stuffed all the ammunition in the packsack. Back at the footlocker, he removed a Glock 10mm model 20, with fifteen-round clip, and for her a Glock 9mm model 17, with a seventeen-round clip. As much as he liked any gun, he liked this one and he had plenty of ammunition. Then he considered that they should both be using the same ammunition, so he grabbed a second 9mm and took the 10mm as a backup. He got her a pack for her ammo and water, then threw in some more supplies. Normally, she would need only matches, salt, a fishing line, and a knife to survive in relative comfort for lengthy periods, so she would be traveling in relative luxury. In the packsacks were a number of individual flour sacks that had been dipped in liquid latex, making them waterproof and buoyant, allowing the backpack to double as a crude flotation device. Anything that needed to remain dry went in a latex-coated sack.
     
    "We may die trying. Is this worth it to you?" Michael was tempted to revert to Portuguese for the philosophical aspects of this question.
     
    "It is worth it."
     
    Before they left, they practiced with the guns for half an hour, and when they were finished, she could use the M-16 to obliterate a stump in seconds. Her facility with the guns was almost unnerving.
     
    They gathered up their things and began walking toward the Tapiche. Somewhere between the Tapiche and the Galvez they would find the trail of the men who came to