"Banks, L A - Vampire Huntress 3 - 2004 - Hunted" - читать интересную книгу автора (Banks L. A)

have a helluva way to make a point to mark off drug territories."
"This was not rebels," the coroner finally said with conviction. "This is not an
international incident. Don't make it one, either."
Slowly pushing himself up from his stooped position, the American embassy
official nodded, blotting his mouth with a handkerchief then with his forearm.
"I know," he said, trying not to breathe too deeply. The air smelled like blood
and rotting flesh. His eyes watered from the stench.
The two CIA men stood there in navy suits and white shirts, their grim
expressions partially masked behind dark aviator sunglasses. They looked almost
identical, save one had brown hair, one was blond, but their just-the-facts
facade was blown by the way their once-crisp white shirts clung to their bodies,
sweat staining them, making them limp. Heat wasn't the only culprit. Their
silent fear was palpable. All the officials and authorities present shared the
same quiet terror with the locals.
"Looks like our National Geographic science team was attacked by some kind of
animal. No slicing with a knife could have dismembered these bodies like this.
All their expensive equipment and cameras are still here," one of the CIA men
said after a moment. He raked his fingers through his perspiration-soaked brown
hair. "Even the local boys didn't disturb the site by moving in to fleece the
bodies of valuables, which would have made for more paperwork. So we can at
least thank superstition." He walked around the remains, glancing at the
carcasses. "No shell casings, there wasn't even time for them to defend
themselves."
"Then, Seдor, make sure that this is what is said in your media. This was no
crimeЧjust an unfortunate animal attack." The Brazilian police captain wiped at
the trickle of sweat running from his temple with his forearm.
"Problem is, there's hardly anything left to ship home," the other CIA man said,
shaking his head at the remains. "That will make the news. If we don't tell it,
one of the family members will."
"As long as it doesn't put a negative slant on our country," the Brazilian
police captain said anxiously. "Tourism is down and only coming back very
slowly, Seдor, especially with the Americanos. Tourism is bigЧ"
"This was a freak situation," the embassy official assured the nervous officer,
while ignoring the terror-stricken expressions on the villagers' faces. "The
incidents in the regions of Belem, Manaus, Para, Salvador, and Maranhao were all
locals who were deep in the jungle where most of our wildlife live and tourists
generally don't go there. The fact that this American team was attacked in the
hillside areas near Rio de JaneiroЧ"
"Should not be made into an international incident. Yeah, we got it," the senior
CIA official said impatiently. "Bag the bodies, inform the families, and we'll
handle the media. Case closed."

Los Angeles, California

Detective Berkfield studied the Internet report with care as he slowly sipped
his morning coffee and stared at his laptop. Nothing had even hit the US news.
Weird. He could smell a coverup a mile away, and had it not been for his
relentless search into obscure news for all things strange, he might have missed
it. Ever since his encounter with Carlos Rivera, every bit of information he'd
gleaned from Rivera's tips had sent him to search those regions for anything out