Manari met the helicopter as it landed on the oil platform a mile off the shore of Celebes Island. He waited until the rotors had died down before addressing John.
“Mr. Dale, we thank you for escorting the prisoners, but your services are no longer required. The helicopter will take you back to the mainland where you can catch a return flight to the US.”
This was the first time Manari had spoken to him since the incident in the President’s office. Clearly, the man was holding a grudge. John shook his head. “My orders are to observe the proceedings. I am to escort them to their drop-off sites and see to it that they are provisioned properly for the hunt.”
Manari’s eyes flashed. “I told you that won’t be necessary.”
John shrugged. “I am obligated to carry out my orders. I’ll be happy to be on my way as soon as the hunt begins. Until then, you are stuck with me. Your bosses have agreed to this.”
Manari visibly struggled to retain a calm disposition. John imagined the volatile Italian was thinking up a plethora ways of murdering John. The President had correctly guessed that the smaller man had not informed his superiors about the incident in the Oval Office. John would use that.
“Fine.” The mobster turned towards the prisoners. “You will be taken below, given a physical, and outfitted with a survival pack.” He glanced at a device strapped to his wrist. “We will be leaving in one hour for your drop-off points. Do each of you understand the task before you?”
Sty grunted. “Yeah. Kill a dragon before it kills me.”
“No, stupid,” Neesha growled back. “We gotta kill a specific Komodo dragon. How will we know which one is the right one?”
The Italian smiled. “Our own hunters have tagged the beast with a transmitter. Each of you will be given a receiver that will update you on the animal’s whereabouts once every two hours. It is rather gregarious and likes to hang out with others of its kind. It may be hard to determine which one is the real one, and if you choose wrong, the transmitter will go offline for an entire day—and other beasts will probably attack you. If you kill the right one, you will be freed. If the others have survived the hunt, they will be hunted in turn and executed. Do you understand?”
The three terrified youths nodded.
“Good. Follow that woman there. She will take you to where you need to go.”
The three youths, still shackled together, shambled after the woman.
Manari turned to John. “My pilot already has the coordinates for where each one of the prisoners will be dropped off. Don’t interfere. If you do, I will kill you. Understood?”
John eyed the man blandly, nodded.
Muttering and gesturing to himself, the mobster stalked off, leaving John to wait by the helicopter.
Ali was the first to be dropped off. The helicopter set down in a grove of palm trees. The clearing was barely large enough to house the machine, but the pilot was very skilled. John hopped out and unshackled Ali’s feet. Pulling him off the helicopter, he tossed the young man’s survival bag at his feet. Manari stared at them from the co-pilot’s chair.
“Ali, there is a little food and water in there. You will need to forage. Do you understand?”
Ali didn’t immediately respond. He slipped an unstrung bow out of the bag sleeve and examined it curiously. His face, though bravely set, showed obvious signs of worry and panic. As well trained as he was, he had not been trained to survive in the wild. He had no idea how to use the bow.
“String it from the uncurved side,” John explained. “You’ll find a bow string inside. Be careful about letting it get wet. It stretches and will rot if it does.”
Ali said nothing so John climbed back in the helicopter. Soon they took to the air again, winding over the palms and other tropical foliage. The Island, from the top, looked like a distorted star fish with four distinct peninsulas. At one point, coastal towns were booming, but of them, only one village remained on the shore between two of the peninsulas. A rather large island, Celebes boasted of rugged mountains at the core of the Island and lush plains in the southern peninsula. The Komodo dragons were known to inhabit much of the Island, particularly around some of the active volcanic regions of the central core. The three youths would be dropped off near the shoreline at the base of one of the uninhabited peninsulas. They would each be given a momentary glimpse of where their target Komodo dragon was currently residing and then expected to hike over rugged tropical—and volcanic—terrain in their efforts to hunt down the beast.
Sylvester was dropped off next. The poor kid looked shell shocked. He hardly even glanced at his survival pack as the helicopter took off. John could see the panic in the youth’s eyes. He recalled catching the kid with a backpack full of explosives. His eyes then had been filled with hate, his desire to inflict mayhem on innocent people around him bright. Now he just looked like a scared kid. The whole thing stunk to high heaven.
One more stop.
Neesha had sat in unusual silence while the other two prisoners had been dropped off. Now, as it came to her turn she opened the bag and looked at the bow and arrows in astonishment. “What am I supposed to do with these?” she whispered, her voice barely carrying over the roar of the helicopter rotors. John sighed. Manari was looking at him with a murderous glint in his eyes. He dared not give her too much advice or comfort.
He stepped back.
“John!” Her voice came out strangled, desperate.
“Sorry. I got to go.” He turned and climbed onto the helicopter.
He put his headset on as they climbed into the sky. Manari said, “Now you will leave, Mr. Dale. Your task is over.”
He nodded, but he knew it wasn’t over. He had to get back to the Island on his own. He didn’t look forward to that, and he still needed to contact Trigger. He knew why the Pentagon wanted him to stay, but he would stay for an entirely different reason—his own reason.