Nate helped her to her feet. He pointed to the grayish vine. "It's named `fire liana.' And not without reason:' The vine draped from a tree and lay tangled near the trunk's base. She would've fallen into the nest of vines if Nate hadn't caught her. "The vine exudes a potent irritant to keep insects away.
"A form of chemical warfare," Kouwe added.
"Exactly." Nate nodded for Frank to continue ahead, then waved an arm. "It's going on all around you all the time here. It's what makes the jungle such a potent medicinal storehouse. The ingenuity and variety of chemicals and compounds waged in this war far outwit anything human scientists could invent in a lab:"
Kelly listened, not feeling particularly appreciative of being a casualty in this chemical war.
After a few more yards, they reached the Rangers, gathered in a ring around one section of forest. A couple of men stood off to the side, weapons on their shoulders, night-vision goggles in place over their faces.
Corporal Jorgensen stood at attention before the unit's captain. "Like I said, I was just using the latrine. DeMartini was standing guard by a near-by tree:"
"And this?" Captain Waxman held up the butt of a cigarette under the man s nose.
"Okay, I heard him light up, but I didn't think he left. When I zipped and turned around, he was gone. He didn't say a word that he was going to wander over to the river:"
"All for a goddamn smoke," Captain Waxman grumbled, then waved an arm. "Dismissed, corporal."
"Yes, sir."
After taking a deep breath, Captain Waxman crossed to them, fire still in his eyes. "I need your expertise on this," he said, his gaze sweeping over Nate, Kouwe, and Manny. Turning, he swung his lights toward an area of trampled jungle grasses. "We found DeMartini's weapon abandoned here, and this stubbed cigarette, but no sign of what happened to his body. Corporal Warczak has searched for any prints leading from here. There aren't any. Just this trampled and shredded area of grasses that leads back to the river.
Kelly saw that the disturbed area did indeed lead all the way to the water's edge. The tall green reeds lining the bank were parted and crushed.
"I'd like to examine this more closely," Professor Kouwe said.
Captain Waxman nodded, passing Kouwe his flashlight.
Nate and Kouwe moved forward. Manny followed, but his pet jaguar stopped at the edge of the area, growling deep in the back of his throat as it sniffed at the grasses.
Hand on his whip, Manny tried to coax the cat to follow. "C'mon, Tor-tor:" The jaguar refused, even retreated a step.
Kouwe glanced back to them. The professor had stopped to crouch at a spot, examining something near the reeds. He sniffed at his fingers.
"What is it?" Nate asked.
"Caiman feces:" He wiped his hand clean on some grasses, then nodded to the growling jaguar. "I think Tor-for agrees:"
"What do you mean?" Kelly asked.
Manny answered, "Wild cats have the ability to sense the size of an ani-mal from just the smell of its excrement or urine. In fact, elephant urine is sold throughout the western United States as a repellent against bobcats and cougars. They won't go near a site marked with elephant urine, freaked by the smell of such a huge animal:'
Kouwe clambered through the reeds to the river's edge. He was careful to pluck aside a few broken stalks, then waved Captain Waxman over. Kelly followed.
Kouwe shone his light on a spot of muddy bank. Clawed prints were clear in the riverbank mud. "Caiman:"
Kelly heard an odd note of relief in Kouwe's voice. Again Nate and the professor shared a secretive glance.
Straightening, Kouwe explained, "Caimans will often hunt the river-banks, snatching tapir and wild pigs as they come to drink. Your corporal must have come too close to the river and was grabbed:"
"Could it he the same one that attacked Corporal Graves?" Waxman asked.
Kouwe shrugged. "Black caimans are fairly intelligent. After learning that our boats are a source of food, it might have followed the rumble of our motors, then lay in wait until nightfall:"
"Goddamn that motherfucker!" Waxman spat, a fist clenched. "Two men in one day."
Staff Sergeant Kostos stepped forward. The tall swarthy Ranger wore a tight expression. "Sir, I can call for reinforcements. The Hueys could be here by morning with two more men:"
"Do it," he snapped. "And from here on out, I want two patrols every shift. Two men in each patrol! I don't want anyone-civilian or soldier-walking this jungle alone. Ever! And I want the river side of every camp set up with motion sensors, not just the jungle:"
"Yes, sir:"
Captain Waxman turned to them. There was no warmth in his words, only dismissal. "Thank you for your assistance:"
The group wound back through the forest. As they marched, Kelly felt numb. Another man gone . . . so suddenly. She hiked past the nest of fire liana vines and eyed them warily. It wasn't only chemical warfare going on out here, but a savage feeding frenzy, where the strong consumed the weak.