Amazon Burning (A James Acton Thriller, #10) Read online

  Amazon Burning

  A James Acton Thriller

  by

  J. Robert Kennedy

  From the Back Cover

  FROM USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR J. ROBERT KENNEDY

  IN THE DEPTHS OF THE AMAZON, ONE OF THEIR OWN HAS BEEN TAKEN!

  Days from any form of modern civilization, archeology Professor James Acton awakes to gunshots. Finding his wife missing, taken by a member of one of the uncontacted tribes, he and his friend INTERPOL Special Agent Hugh Reading try desperately to find her in the dark of the jungle, but quickly realize there is no hope without help.

  And with help three days away, he knows the longer they wait, the farther away she’ll be.

  And the less hope there will be of ever finding the woman he loves.

  USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy reunites James Acton and his wife Laura Palmer with Hugh Reading, CIA Special Agent Dylan Kane, Delta Team-Bravo and others in a race against time to save one of their own, while behind the scenes a far darker, sinister force is at play, determined to keep its existence a secret from the world. The stakes are high, the action is full-throttle, and hearts will be broken as lives are changed forever in another James Acton adventure ripped from the headlines.

  About the James Acton Thrillers

  "James Acton: A little bit of Jack Bauer and Indiana Jones!"

  Though this book is part of the James Acton Thrillers series, it is written as a standalone novel and can be enjoyed without having read any of the previous installments.

  About J. Robert Kennedy

  USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy has been ranked by Amazon as the #1 Bestselling Action Adventure novelist based upon combined sales. He is the author of over twenty international bestsellers including the smash hit James Acton Thrillers series of which the first installment, The Protocol, has been on the bestseller lists since its release, including occupying the number one spot for three months. He lives with his wife and daughter and writes full-time.

  "If you want fast and furious, if you can cope with a high body count, most of all if you like to be hugely entertained, then you can't do much better than J Robert Kennedy."

  Amazon Vine Voice Reviewer

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  Get a free eBook by joining The Insider's Club and be notified when new books are released!

  Find out more at www.jrobertkennedy.com.

  Books by J. Robert Kennedy

  The James Acton Thrillers

  The Protocol

  Brass Monkey

  Broken Dove

  The Templar's Relic

  Flags of Sin

  The Arab Fall

  The Circle of Eight

  The Venice Code

  Pompeii's Ghosts

  Amazon Burning

  The Riddle

  Blood Relics

  Sins of the Titanic

  Saint Peter's Soldiers

  The Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers

  Rogue Operator

  Containment Failure

  Cold Warriors

  Death to America

  The Delta Force Unleashed Thrillers

  Payback

  Infidels

  The Lazarus Moment

  The Detective Shakespeare Mysteries

  Depraved Difference

  Tick Tock

  The Redeemer

  Zander Varga, Vampire Detective Series

  The Turned

  Table of Contents

  The Novel

  Acknowledgements

  Get a Free eBook!

  About the Author

  Also by the Author

  For the best friend I ever had, Paul Conway.

  You are missed.

  “There are many humorous things in the world; among them, the white man's notion that he is less savage than the other savages.”

  Mark Twain, Following the Equator: A Journey Around the World

  “You can't measure the mutual affection of two human beings by the number of words they exchange.”

  Milan Kundera

  Preface

  Imagine a small town in the middle of the desert in Nevada. It has no roads leading in or out, and never has. The people have lived there for as long as anyone can remember, happily, peacefully, at one with each other and their land. No planes fly over it, no tourists stumble upon it and only the occasional explorer or adventurer has even been near it. It is isolated and unknown to the outside world. The outside world as much a mystery to it, as it is to the outside world.

  Then imagine one day it was gone, its population wiped out because under the town, there was something a previously unknown town wanted, and they were in the way.

  Who would know? Who would weep for them?

  Though fictional, this scenario is happening today, in the real world. On July 3rd 2014 it was reported that a previously uncontacted tribe had emerged from the Amazon Rainforest in Brazil, near the Peruvian border. The tribe, to this point able to live in peace far from Western civilization, had been forced ever closer to other tribes by illegal logging in Peru. As their traditional lands were destroyed, they eventually had no choice but to make contact with another tribe who they knew had relations with the “white man”.

  International treaties protect these uncontacted tribes, once thought to be so desperately primitive that we would actively seek them out and “rescue” them from their misery, inviting them into the bottom rungs of Western society. Modern thinking has evolved to the point where we now leave them alone. Many are aware of us, but chose not to contact us, and still others are not. Brazil estimates there are 77 uncontacted tribes in their territory, with another 15 in Peru and still more in other Amazonian countries. Dozens more have been located through aerial surveys in New Guinea and the Andaman Islands off India, and still more are thought to live in Malaysia and central Africa.

  Though these tribes may appear primitive to us, who are we to say our lives are any better than theirs? They live, they work, they laugh, they love. They have friends, families, homes and communities. They have purpose and they have problems.

  So how are they different from us?

  In one fundamental way. They cannot harm us, but with our technology, with our greed and ambivalence, we can wipe them out in a single stroke.

  But when it happens, and it does, who would know that one more uncontacted tribe had disappeared when no one remains to sing their songs and tell their stories, including the final story, of when the white man came.

  Northern Amazon

  54 Cycles after the Year of the Screaming Eagle

  Fifth Day of the Third Moon

  Tuk blushed.

  Quickly looking away, he pretended he hadn’t been staring at TikTik, instead following the track of an imaginary bird in the sky. Out of the corner of his eye he glanced back in her direction and saw her smiling at him as she brushed her future mate’s grandmother’s hair.

  She’s so beautiful.

  His heart sank as he saw Bruk sneak up behind her then roar as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. She giggled in glee, a shy kiss exchanged before Grandmother snapped at them to settle down and wait for the mating ceremony otherwise they’d be cursed with ugly children.

  Another peck was exchanged behind the old grandmother’s back before TikTik returned to her ministrations, Bruk receding into the forest, spear in hand, probably off to slay something for dinner big enough to feed most of the small tribe.

  And it ate him up inside.

  You’re pathetic.

  And he was. Among the men he was the slightest,
the weakest. His voice was high and lacked any of the confidence the others had.

  He was a woman with a penis.

  And you’ll never get a mate like TikTik.

  His face fell with his shoulders as he shuffled into the forest leaving the village clearing behind him, the sounds of life and laughter quickly fading, replaced with the constant cry of the jungle. The creatures they shared their home with were well known to him, one of his many intellectual talents the ability from a young age to distinguish the sound of every creature in the forest.

  His father, the greatest hunter he had ever known, had taught him how to track and Tuk had become exceptional at it. Unfortunately he didn’t possess the strength to throw the spear to take down the prey he found. He could aim and hit a target with ease, it was piercing the skin deep enough that was the problem.

  A tremendous disappointment to his father.

  As he quietly walked through the forest, his bare feet enjoying the coolness of the damp morning ground, he heard a wild boar squeal in the distance and knew Bruk had found his next kill.

  And his heart felt a twinge of regret for the poor, helpless creature. And perhaps that was it, that was why he could never throw hard enough. Perhaps it was that these creatures who would be their dinner were as helpless as he was. Weak in the face of the mighty hunters of the tribe, like he was. Perhaps they were his kindred spirits.

  He gently pushed aside a large, lazy snake with his spear as it dangled in front of him, eyeballing him. Even his slight state would present a challenge to this particular creature, but he knew some of the bigger ones could swallow him whole with ease.

  The thought terrified him.

  As a child he had seen a yakumama snake devour a boar then regurgitate the still live creature as if toying with it, only to swallow it down again moments later, the look in its eyes one of pure evil. It was to be respected, and avoided. Rarely would the tribe tackle such a creature, though there had been times when one would get a taste for man and they, along with some of the other tribes in the area would cooperate to hunt it down and kill it. The feast would be glorious, though he always wondered if they were indirectly eating their fellow tribesmen.

  He shivered.

  Maybe I should see how she is doing?

  The thought of his future mate warmed him and brought a smile to his face. He would be marrying from outside the tribe, which was encouraged whenever possible. She was no TikTik, but was beautiful in her own unique way, and in time he knew they would both grow to love each other the way he secretly loved the forbidden TikTik.

  A scream from the other side of the village had him frozen in place as he turned his head, cocking an ear as the sounds of the forest changed.

  Another scream.

  A man’s scream.

  Bruk!

  And it was fear, not anger. Tuk could honestly say he had never heard Bruk ever express fear, and it sent a chill down his spine like he had never experienced before. His instinct was to run the other way, to escape whatever had terrified this great warrior, but he resisted the urge. His mother was still in the village.

  And TikTik.

  More screams, then strange cracking sounds and shouts, voices he didn’t recognize, words that were foreign to him. He readied his spear and rushed back toward the village, the thoughts of another tribe attacking his small family filling him with rage. TikTik screamed, her voice so beautifully distinctive he’d recognize it anywhere, then his mother’s. A beast roared, trees snapped, and still he ran toward the horror, determined to help his family and friends.

  And the woman who would be Bruk’s mate.

  The roar of the beast was louder now and continuous. He had never heard such a creature before, its sound so loud and long, he wondered when it would need to pause for breath. Trees continued to be felled by the beast, it clearly massive if it were able to take down so many so quickly.

  He was almost at the clearing where his village had sat for as long as he had been alive. Their numbers were small now, only half a dozen huts enough to contain all thirty of their clan. Over the years many girls had been born, more than boys, and then several boys had died in a tragic incident with a wild boar. With the tradition among the local tribes of the man finding a mate from another tribe, and bringing her back to live with the male’s tribe, their numbers had dwindled, the girls taking mates and leaving, and not very many men reaching mating age to bring a spouse home. They were few, and eventually they would all be gone, leaving their tribe a mere memory to be lost as the forest reclaimed what was rightfully Hers.

  Perhaps my new mate and I can delay that for another generation.

  He tore past the ring of trees around the clearing and dropped to his stomach instantly, scurrying back into the cover of the forest as his jaw dropped and his already racing heart threatened to burst from his chest. The roaring beast, quieter now but still growling, sat near the edge of the trees on the other side of the clearing. Creatures, all black with faces as smooth as a still pond were pouring into the village, short spears not much longer than a man’s arm held in their hands. It was as if pure black Panthers had learned to stand on their hind legs.

  Then his heart leapt into his throat and he slowly slid farther back into the jungle as he realized what he was seeing. It was an abomination, a legend told to frighten children and respect the forest.

  He had never actually dreamed they were real.

  The Panther People.

  He had heard of the tribe that had long ago killed the regal creatures and worn their skins, disrespecting their kills, failing to honor the Mother for Her sacrifice.

  And they had paid a horrible price.

  The black panthers had entered the village and consumed them all, and as a reward from the Mother, been given the powers of man.

  It was a story told to children to prepare them for their first hunt, and to warn them of the dangers of disrespecting the forest, the Mother. All life was sacred, and all life served its purpose. If it were necessary to kill to feed or protect oneself, the Mother understood. To kill for pleasure? That was a sin punishable by banishment or worse—though he thought death would be preferable to banishment from the tribe.

  He loved his tribe, his family, his friends.

  For he had friends. Even the great Bruk was his friend. None of the tribe faulted him for his lack of ability as a hunter, none of them teased him. It was simply accepted as a fact, and he helped in other ways, usually as a tracker for the hunters, or as a trader with nearby tribes since they found him unintimidating.

  And as he watched the Panther People round up his tribe, tears rolled down his cheeks as he sat by helpless, cursing himself for not having the soul of a warrior like Bruk.

  It was then that he saw two of the Panther People pull a body into the center of the village and dump it on the ground.

  Bruk!

  TikTik screamed, rushing toward him but was struck down as one of the creatures pointed at her. She fell to the ground, shaking horribly, then was still. Dead.

  He cried out in rage, jumping to his feet and hurtling his spear through the air. His aim was true, hitting the creature in the chest, but his weapon bounced off the thick black skin harmlessly.

  Then the creature pointed at him.

  Tuk realized the horrible mistake he had made and spun, racing into the trees as cracking sounds erupted from their attackers and the trees around him began to erupt, splinters bursting from the mighty trunks as he fled the only home he had ever known.

  As he swiftly cut a path silently through the trees, his mind unable to comprehend what had just happened, the sounds began to fade into the distance and he slowed to catch his breath.

  What am I supposed to do?

  He realized he needed help, he needed the other tribes to help fight the Panther People, but he also knew they would probably be too scared to fight, instead more likely to flee their own villages.

  Then he realized what he had to do.

  He had to ask the Woman
of Light for help. He knew she had special powers, and he knew she would help him. She was one of the Spirit People, and had let herself be taken.

  And after the Cleansing Ritual, he would be ready to present her to the tribe.

  As his mate.

  He closed his eyes as he remembered their first successful communication. Her voice, so different from those of the women of his tribe, had said his name with little effort.

  “Tuk?” she had repeated, and he had nodded fervently, so happy she had said it, the sound of her voice filling him with a rapturous wonder, this creature a woman like no other. He had urged her to say it again and again until she had laughed at his excitement, a wondrous sound that echoed through the forest, bringing it to life as the creatures around them had shared in their joy.

  Then she had taught him her name.

  It had been hard to say, but she had been patient, and after an annoying length of time he had finally mastered it.

  And he said it now, filling himself with warmth and love as he set off to ask for help from his future mate.

  “Lau-ra-pal-mer.”

  Rio Negro, Northern Amazon, Brazil

  Present Day

  Professor James Acton lay in a hammock, it swaying gently as the quiet put-put of the engine guided them to the farthest reaches of the Amazon River. A bottle of water balanced on his stomach, rising and falling with each breath, his face one of contentment as he simply listened to the jungle around him, a never ending cacophony of sound that at first was overwhelming, but after two weeks was now oddly soothing. He knew he’d miss it when they went back home.