Page 61 of Fear No Evil

Lobo watched for a while. “Interesting. I wonder if they’re headed to one of the other camps.”

“Probably not toArribasince they’re descending. But they might be going toKi-kirr-zikis.”

Their intel, added to the piecemeal shortwave communications, photos, and thermal images picked up by military drones, was growing by the hour. They’d seen images of cargo trucks creeping across the border from Venezuela, headed for the northeast side of El Castillo and listened to conversations involving drugs and weapons shipments, all of which suggested what Lieutenant Carrigan needed to confirm before they took any action: that Venezuela was backing the FARC.

The door swung inward, bringing Lobo’s head around as Zen Suzuki, loaded down with coffee and donuts from the cafeteria, pushed his way inside. “What’s happening?” He came to stand next to Lobo.

“They’re moving,” Harm relayed.

Zen’s expression never changed. Lobo could never tell what the younger SEAL was thinking until he asked a question.

“Should we be worried, sir?”

And there it was. “Not yet.”

As Harm popped up to pluck a coffee from Zen’s tray, Lobo occupied his vacated seat.

He stared hard at the monitor. One hair’s width at a time, the red and blue dots were advancing towardKi-kirr-zikis.If Jake could put eyes on Rebel Central and confirm Venezuela’s suspected involvement, then the CIA and SOCOM could warn their Colombian allies.

Forewarned was forearmed. The rebel movement was going to be short-lived once the Colombian government, led by the JUNGLA and backed by the U.S.A., took measures to prevent an uprising.

Rain gushed through the forest canopy, turning the trail under the boots of the UN peacekeepers into a slushy gulley. Sweeping an eye up and down the line of hikers, it occurred to Jake that the same rebels who had greeted them in La Esmerelda were accompanying them again, minus the two girls, which suggested the team’s visit toEl Castillowas coming to an end. The telltale sign was supposed to cheer him, only it didn’t. The sooner this assignment ended, the sooner he would be pulled away from Lena.

Perhaps because they traveled downhill, the hike seemed easier than their grueling climb up the mountain just over a week ago. Maybe the leisurely pace they set was because Arias had to be carried on a makeshift stretcher, David holding the front of it and Julian holding the back.

As with their last hike, Lena shepherded Esme along the treacherous snaking path, the same one Jake and Charles had followed the night before. The fact that the path led them right past the Venezuelan’s encampment kept Jake uneasy.

He sought to reassure himself. The FARC weren’t going to flaunt Gallo’s new friends in front of the UN peacekeepers. Andsurely, after the scare with the grenades, the Venezuelans had packed up and moved somewhere else. But until they passed the spot where the camp had been, Jake would not rest easy.

When his gaze fell upon three mules, still roped to the same area where they’d been the other night, his fears surged back. Incredulous, Jake spotted the soldiers next, keeping well away from the traveling party but still watching with somewhat gloating expressions as the UN team straggled by.

Jake willed Lena to avert her face. The odds that any of those soldiers had visited the weapons depot were minimal, but still, why take any chances?

“¡Chamo!”A voice coming from the Venezuelans hailed Gallo.

Startled by the voice coming out of nowhere, Lena looked toward the encampment before quickly averting her face.

Gallo said something to Marquez, then, ignoring that man’s frown, stepped off the path to hobnob with his buddies. With a rolling of his eyes, Marquez stopped their forward progress to wait for him.

Jake’s mouth turned dry.Oh, come on. Just keep moving.

If the Turkish woman hadn’t needed so much help to stay on her feet, Maggie would have seen the soldiers before the greeting startled her. The wordchamoidentified the nearly invisiblegroup at once, even though they’d stripped off all identifying patches and bands to keep the UN team from guessing who they were.

Turning her back on them, she affected concern for her companion, who was battling a stitch in her side. “Breathe through it,” she advised as Esme pressed the heel of her palms against her abdomen.

Over the woman’s gasping complaints, Maggie strained to hear what Gallo was telling the Venezuelans. He seemed to be offering them shelter up at the camp they’d just vacated. Maggie rebelled at the thought of them sleeping in Jake’s and her cubicle.

Marquez barked for Gallo to rejoin them. As themondomade his way back, one of the Venezuelans followed him, loath to end the conversation. Maggie averted her face as much as possible while urging Marquez under her breath to start marching again.

From the corner of her eye, she tried to gauge whether any of the Venezuelans looked familiar. Of course, they wouldn’t. There were tens of thousands of soldiers in the Venezuelan National Army, and yet…the man coming closer…Her breath caught. Her heart began to pound. It couldn’t beEl Capitánwho’d cleared out the warehouse before the revolutionaries blew it up. The odds were a thousand to one.

But she would recognize his brutish features anywhere. Having duct-taped her to a chair so she would perish when the revolutionaries bombed the warehouse, how could she forget him? He’d haunted her dreams‍—same broad cheekbones, same reddish-brown eyes. God help her, itwashim.

Finally, Gallo rejoined them, and their troop began to move. Feeling eyes on her profile, Maggie willed herself to be invisible. She must have squeezed Esme’s arm too hard.

“What’s wrong?” the woman demanded sharply.

“Nothing.”