Page 91 of Fear No Evil
Jake’s finger curled instinctively over the trigger of his M4. If only David didn’t want him killing the guards. He could expedite Lena’s escape with a double tap that would neutralize the large guard instantly, followed by his partner when that man emerged to investigate.
Still, Jake respected David’s wishes and would do his best to abide by them. Killing was no small thing. Fortunately for Jake, the rules were different for special operators, who killed to savelives. Ben Harmony, the Teams’ best sniper, had taught him that helpful truth.
Neither Lena nor the JUNGLA captives would suffer such qualms, thankfully. And surely this was when they would make their move. The enormous guard was marching into the pen. He reached the rough-hewn door and stepped through it, taking the flashlight with him.
“David.” At Jake’s whisper, the drowsing youth jerked to attention, looked up at him, then craned his neck to see over the bush he hid behind. “It’s about to happen.”
Not five seconds later, a bloodcurdling scream issued from the hovel, raising Jake’s hackles. The cry came again, only to curtail abruptly as the large guard met his untimely end.
Finally. Jake released the breath he was holding. Now the hostages could make their escape.
Frankenstein was hard to kill. It took Jorge, the JUNGLA who’d volunteered to slit the man’s throat, two attempts before the beast finally crumpled. But not before his scream rent the quiet, alerting his colleagues to trouble. As Jake would say,Mallacht air!
Maggie’s heart would not stop pounding. She rose on trembling knees, her thoughts fixed on one goal: to escape this awful place.
Fernando, their leader, waited for Jorge to wipe the blood off the KA-BAR onto his slacks before gesturing with the pistol. “Vamos. Señora, stay at the rear.” He waved her to the back as they fell into a line and followed Fernando out the open door—Jorge first, then Diego, then her.
The cold air wafting over Maggie sharpened her fever-dulled senses. Even with adrenaline ricocheting through her bloodstream, her limbs felt weighted, her movements sluggish.
Scarcely aware of the pain in her hip, she slid along the hovel’s outer wall behind the commandos as they headed single file toward the gate. Light jumped suddenly from the guards’ hovel, and they shrank back as Igor came barreling out of it with his flashlight in one hand, his handheld radio in the other.
“Raúl!” The man’s panicked cry echoed off the escarpment behind them.“Raúl!”He brought his radio to his mouth to alert the other FARC.“Aviso! Aviso!”
CRACK!Fernando felled him with a single bullet of the pistol. Was it Jake’s? Both the flashlight and the radio fell into the snow.
Jake, are you here?Maggie squashed the hope that welled in her. She’d seen him disappear into the fast-flowing water. And, looking around, there was nothing but barren tundra, covered in snow and bone-chilling wind.
“Go!” Fernando powered forward, hustling them through the open gate.
The whistle that came floating out of the tree line made Maggie’s heart cartwheel. She knew that sound! But what if it was just a product of delirium or the cry of an Andean Condor? “If you see a white man, please don’t shoot him,” she told Fernando, just in case. Her heart raced for a completely different reason. Oh, Jake, please be here.
If Jake was alive, she would doeverythingdifferently.
Their line fragmented as they dispersed, looking around, wondering, What now? There was nothing but snow and rocks, shrubs, naked branches, and clouds overhead with just a few stars peeking through. They might be free, but they were far from saved.
But then, a figure stepped out of the forest with his hands held high. The air backed up in Maggie’s lungs. Her heart lodged itself in her throat. Behind him, with less confidence, emerged a smaller man in a poncho—David.
“Jake?” Maggie’s strangled cry was scarcely audible. How could it be him? This man wore a helmet with night-vision gear mounted on it and a uniform. His face was blackened. Perhaps it was one of his teammates. “He’s a friend. Don’t shoot!”
As the soldier drew closer, she saw that he walked with a limp. But the breadth of his shoulders and the length of his legs were so like Jake’s. Then his lips parted in a smile so familiar, so dear that Maggie’s knees almost buckled. “Jake!”
She ran at him, heedless of the pain her sudden movement engendered. Joy like nothing she had ever experienced exploded inside her, seeming to lift her off her feet as she ran toward him, arms outstretched. He’d survived that fall into the river! Impossible! Yet here he was, rescuing her like he had done two times before.
Only this time, she was never letting go.
Lena crashed into him, her grip so tight Jake marveled that she still had such strength in her. She promptly burst into tears—the last thing she wanted to do, he knew, but she was overcome. Tears welled into his own eyes, and joy strangled his vocal cords—until he noticed the heat smoldering through the flimsy canvas at the back of her jacket. She was burning up with fever.
“You’re all right now, Beautiful. We’re going home.”
Overcome by emotion, she nodded with her face hidden against his neck.
Looking past her, Jake met the wary expressions of the three JUNGLA commandos who should have been released days ago per the UN’s agreement with the FARC. Reed-thin and grubby, they divided speculative looks between him and the boy in the poncho, whom they doubtless recognized.
Shifting Maggie to one side, Jake thrust a gloved hand toward the eldest of the bunch. “Lieutenant Jake Carrigan, SEAL Team Six.”
The man’s grip was surprisingly strong.
“Capitán Fernando Calderón. With me are Sargentos Diego Lopez and Jorge Peña. I imagine this is yours?” Fernando went to hand Jake’s pistol back to him.