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“They did. That’s why they had the machetes and axes.”

Sam eyed Leonid. “Couple of AK-47s would have been a better idea.”

“Believe me, my friend, if there were any on

the island, I would have had them.”

“Where’s your crew?” Remi asked.

“Back at the bay. They’re packing up and returning by sea with the boats and gear. Nobody wanted to ride with me. I have a feeling they blame me for their friend’s misfortune for some reason.” He paused. “Did you see the size of that creature? It was longer than the truck.”

“And it may have family in the area,” Sam said.

Remi nodded. “Yes, and the relatives might hold a grudge. Take your butchering of their friend personally.”

Leonid looked alarmed. “I didn’t do anything.”

Sam gave Remi a sad smile. “You don’t need to explain it to us. Save it for the crocs.”

They trooped into the building, which was as primitive as the exterior promised. The emergency room lounge was a squalid rectangle with poor ventilation and a dozen sick or injured waiting on a row of shabby benches. Ricky had claimed an empty area on the far end and was staring off into space. They moved to the bench and sat beside him as the overhead fans orbited in a futile attempt to cool the stifling interior. After a few minutes of sweating, Remi stood again. “I’ll wait outside.”

Sam rose and Leonid followed suit. “We’ll keep you company.”

Remi turned to Ricky. “Will you come get us when you hear something?”

“Yes.” Ricky looked unfazed by the heat. “Dr. Vanya’s the best we have, so he’s in good hands.”

“That’s a little bit of luck, at any rate,” Remi said, wiping her brow.

An old man sitting nearby coughed with a wet, thick sound, and Sam took Remi’s hand and led her to the exit. Outside, the temperature was baking, but, even so, it felt refreshing after the hotbox that was the hospital’s waiting room. They found a shaded area near the side of the building, and Sam inspected his shirt.

“Probably not a bad idea to get back to the hotel to change.” He looked at Remi, who also had dried blood on her. “Want to make a quick run?”

Remi glanced at the Land Rover. “If we pass a car wash, you’ve got my vote.”

Leonid nodded. “I’ll give you a lift. No point standing here cooking.”

They piled into the SUV, and Leonid took the wheel. After the breakneck ride from the bay, the Russian’s conservative driving felt like they were standing still. Leonid’s face looked like he’d been drinking vinegar as he navigated the busy streets, surprisingly clogged with cars.

“We’re pretty much shut down now,” he said. “There’s no way that crew’s going to want to return to the bay after this.”

“Have you talked to them?”

“Only two indicated any willingness to go back tomorrow.”

“What about boats?”

“None of the captains want anything to do with us now. Bad luck, that.”

“Especially for the uncle,” Remi said, eyeing her shirt. “I can’t even imagine what he’s going through.”

“He’s lucky you two were there. If we’d had to wait for the others to do something, he’d be dead,” Leonid stated flatly.

“Ricky said that’s cultural. Nothing moves fast on the island.”

“Except the crocodiles,” Leonid said.

They got to the hotel and, ignoring the horrified looks of staff and the few other guests, went directly to their room. After quick showers and a change of clothes, they were ready to return to the hospital. Leonid was waiting for them in the cool lobby, where he was studying the photographs he’d salvaged in the chaos. Sam and Remi took seats on either side of him, enjoying the slight chill of the air-conditioning.


Tags: Clive Cussler Fargo Adventures Thriller