Page 83 of Fear No Evil
David’s rounded eyes communicated pity. “No, señora. I’m sorry. Gallo has the key.”
Her gaze fell to the rifle lying at his feet. “You could shoot the padlock with your weapon.”
He shook his head with lament. “My rifle doesn’t fire, señora. It’s only for show.”
Maggie just blinked at the bitter irony of a rebel’s weapon not firing.
“Do not be afraid. I will protect you.” He ruined the assertion by swallowing hard.
Maggie squelched the unkind urge to laugh. How could this young man possibly protect her, apart from keeping her well? “Where did Gallo and Vargas go?”
David hesitated. “I really don’t know, señora.”
He was an awful liar. She could tell by his tone alone those two were out setting a trap for her rescue party. An overwhelming lethargy had her sinking back into her hammock.
With Gallo and Vargas in possession of her tracking device, Jake’s teammates would never think to look for her here. The only thing they might recover was Jake’s body, downriver somewhere. Loss sucked her into despair’s muddy undertow.
Oh, Jake.I’d give anything to see you again.
By the time Jake’s boots and gear arrived, the sun was beginning to rise, brightening the sky from black to pewter. They’d waited for three agonizing hours, toward the end of which Lena’s tracker began to move, suggesting she was being relocated. As her altitude climbed, Lobo suggested what Jake didn’t want to accept: the FARC’s newest captive was being taken toArriba.
Soon, the SEALs might know exactly where the third camp lay.
It was not the Little Bird helicopter that brought Jake’s gear but a Sikorsky SH-60 Seahawk that thundered into the valley at dawn. Lobo had made a quick and smart decision. Instead of chasing Lena all the way up the mountain by foot, which would have taken the better part of a day and added the risk of running into more FARC, they would fly up the mountain to within five kilometers of her location and drop in via a SPIE rig.
That was how Jake found himself dangling in the air over the clouds that ringed the upper half of El Castillo. Hovering in the thick white veil, the Sikorsky lowered them through the clouds, through a canopy of evergreens, totally unlike the trees that grew at lower elevations. The chilly mist dampened Jake’s camo-blackened face as he and his teammates brushed through fragrant boughs, then touched down, one by one, onto a carpet of pine needles, where they detached themselves from the rig. Branches stirred over their heads as the SPIE rig was raised, returning to the helo hovering high above them.
Jake looked around, disoriented. He’d never been this far up the mountain. Was this whereArribalay? The stunted, moss-covered trees looked nothing like the El Castillo he was acquainted with. He felt like he’d dropped into aLord of theRingsmovie. Moss grew up the sides of the gnarled and twisted trees. The mist kept him from seeing more than fifty feet in any direction.
As he rallied up with his peers, Jake could tell the air was thin by how fast his heart was beating. They all crouched around Lobo, pausing to catch a collective breath while their OIC consulted his laptop.
“We’re five klicks away, but she’s not moving anymore.”
Foreboding skittered over Jake’s scalp. That didn’t mean she was dead, he assured himself.
Lobo pointed out the direction they should take. “Let’s go.”
Half an hour later, they came across a trail with fresh tracks on it. Jake tried to tell if the imprints in the dirt looked like Lena’s.
Harm held up two fingers. Lena and one captor, then. Or two captors carrying Lena between them.
Lobo checked his laptop a second time. With a start, Jake realized they were practically on top of her location. Raking the eerie, misty surroundings, he tried sensing her proximity. The hairs on his nape prickled.
Lobo shut his laptop and signaled for them to separate and surround their target. Each man set off on his own, just fifty yards or so from his teammates. Forming a loose net, they would close in from all sides.
Jake cradled his M4 assault rifle, ready to flick off the safety at a moment’s notice as he waded stealthily uphill. His new boots weren’t just blessedly padded, protecting his feet, but they were designed not to leave discernible tracks.
As he climbed the steep, spongy grade, he queried his uneasiness. This forest was too quiet. Surely, howler monkeys lived at this altitude, but if they were here, they were mute. Even the birds were silent. A rumble of thunder portended rain. Maybe it was the weather keeping the animals listless.
What did it mean that Lena wasn’t moving anymore? Either she was dead, or she was chained up in a hovel nearby, unable to move. Another possibility popped into his head, causing him to halt abruptly. He depressed the button on his inter-team radio, then spoke into it quietly, with the sense that someone could hear him.
“Lobo. What if she’s not here? What if we’re just following her tracker?”
Given Lobo’s silence, he didn’t like that suggestion. Obviously, if they were following her tracker, then this was a trap.
Jake’s scalp tightened. Movement in his peripheral vision had him jerking his rifle in that direction. Shadows shifted within the mist. The silhouette of a deer had him releasing his held breath. “There’s a small herd of deer at my three o’clock.”
Four does and a fawn picked their way through the forest right where Lena was supposed to be.