Back Inside Sona, Part XLIII
They walked for hours. The early morning deluge was long over, but the water continued to stream down the lengths of the branches and long, broad leaves surrounding them. Michael was still soaking wet and muddy. His boots still landed in sloshy, unseen puddles with every step. But it was better, easier. The path no longer seemed quite so perilous.
At first, Michael thought it was a result of the break in the rainfall, but soon realized it had much more to do with the change in Cam’s demeanor than anything else. She was no longer fraught with tension and anxiety. No, she was talking effortlessly, casually again.
“Look,” Michael remembered saying just before the change occurred. He had been pointing at the GPS screen as he spoke. “This tracer has stopped advancing.”
Cam had moved her hand across his and turned it to get a better view. “Perfect,” she whispered.
That was all it had taken, and even when the small blip started moving again, a couple of hours later, she continued to smile. She was the fearless soldier again, presenting the calm face he had learned hid much more than it revealed.
They completed the diagonal portion of the day’s journey during the worst of the storm. Crossing from Alex’ zone to the other had been a slow and arduous process, but finally, they each looked at the screen and smiled in satisfaction. After hours of hard work, they had intersected the invisible line that connected their target team with the small town lying at the highest altitude in this part of Panama-San José.
They changed course without needing to make a comment to one another, and followed that line. Cam dropped another wrapper, and then reached out to rip at leaves as she passed. “Time to set the trap,” she explained unnecessarily. Michael understood the plan, and reached out to do the same.
“Break,” Cam called out sometime later without warning. She grabbed the knife strapped to her ankle and reached out to a nearby palm.
“Are we really stopping long enough for that?” Michael’s brow furrowed.
“No,” she answered easily, “We just want them to think we did.”
Michael nodded in agreement and took a few steps off their imaginary trail in search of some snack with a little flavor.
“Don’t leave any tracks that way,” she warned with a smile. “Just one trail. We want to make it easy for them.”
Michael waved her off and laughed, but it was cut short when he heard the hiss and saw the small wildcat bristle and crouch low. It was staring up at him through slanted eyes from less than five feet away. Michael froze in place.
How could he have missed it? How could the golden-brown fur with leopard-like spots blend into the lush green forest so perfectly?
“Don’t worry,” Cam was at his side, whispering softly in his ear. The cat didn’t move, just shifted her gaze from one target to the other. “She’s protecting her kits, back away slowly and she’ll ease up.”
Michael took several slow backwards steps before the cat relaxed. It was several more feet before she slinked away, back into the jungle.
“What was that?” Michael whispered, even though the cat had lost interest in them.
“A Margay. Beautiful, isn’t she?” Cam starred at the disappearing feline.
“Not the word I was thinking of.” Michael let out a breath.
“Oh, the cats aren’t a threat out here. They know you’re bigger than they are. They would only attack to protect their own.” Cam explained the logic of the jungle. “Worry about the tapirs if you need something to worry about,” she added with a laugh. “The higher into the jungle we go, the more prevalent they are.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled, “That’s my problem, I needed something to worry about.” He paused for a moment, then went on, “Tapirs, huh?”
“Tapirs," Cam nodded before continuing in the same, even tone, "They’re big--like little rhinos--and stupid, with a forehead an inch thick. If you startle them, they can take down a tree six inches in diameter with a single head butt,” Cam continued in the same even tone.
Michael studied her expression, looking for signs of the hidden joke. He didn’t see any. “Don’t startle the tapirs. Got it.” He looked at her and added hesitantly, “So, what do you do if you startle one?”
“Climb a tree,” Cam giggled. She actually giggled. She was definitely enjoying this. “Just make sure it’s bigger around than six inches! Why do you think I set the hammock up so high off the ground?”
Michael just shook his head, glanced down at the receiver and continued on course. Whatever break they had planned was long forgotten.
“They are about three miles behind us,” Michael spoke again after several minutes. “How does this work? How long will it take them to catch up with us?”
Cam looked at him seriously before answering, like she was either honestly computing the answer or trying to determine exactly how much he needed to know. “Well, right now they are travelling slower than us. They are probably spread out, covering as much of their assigned zone as they can. When they spot our trail, though, they will converge and travel much more quickly.”
“So, how long?” Michael repeated.
She leaned into him and tugged at the receiver attached to his beltline. She studied it closely again. “It will probably take them a few more hours to pick up our trail, so we will gain a little time before they start to speed up.” She stopped and pointed to a spot on the screen a couple miles closer to San José, “This is where I want to set up. It’s a good location, easily protected, but vulnerable enough to lure them close. We should be there by 1600 hours. I’d say that gives us a four-hour window.”
“They will come after us at night,” Michael spoke aloud. It wasn’t a question, it was an assessment.
“Without a doubt,” Cam nodded in agreement. “They will have night vision capability. They think we are most vulnerable at night.”
“We’re not?”
“Not with what we know,” she answered confidently.
“We can do this,” Michael murmured, staring ahead.
Cam came to a standstill and pulled the pack off her back. “Stop,” she whispered.
Michael looked over and caught sight of her thoughtful expression, not sure what to make of it. He shrugged out of the pack and let it drop with a thud to the ground. He sank back against the broad trunk of a tree, raising one leg and putting his foot flat against the wood behind him. For the first time in hours, he felt thirsty, so he reached down and pulled out a bottle.
She was staring at him, unblinking, waiting several minutes before speaking. “What are you willing to do, Michael?” She asked bluntly, almost challengingly. “How far will you go?”
Michael quirked his head to the side. He didn’t comment; he just looked directly at her, returning her glare with a determined, steely-eyed gaze of his own.
“When we do this tonight, it’s ‘all-or-nothing.’ After we make contact, our time is limited,” Cam continued, more subdued. “Once the Company knows one of their teams has been compromised, they will know exactly where to find us. We won’t have much time to do what we need to do, to get the information we need, and then get out of there as fast as we can. We’ll have to move at full speed until we hit a safer zone. Depending on where we set up, that could take half the night.”
Cam stopped again, looking at him seriously. Michael thought she expected something from him; he just wasn’t sure what it was.
“You wanted to be a part of this, now I need to know if I can count on you,” her voice trailed off as she spoke, finishing in little more than a whisper.
Michael sighed loudly. He drained the bottle and let it drop to the ground before returning her gaze again. “I’ll do what I need to do,” he responded quietly, but confidently.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Collins paced the length of the General’s office. It was the only place he could let loose and show anything but a confident front. And right now, his confidence was in short supply.
Things weren’t adding up. The pieces weren’t falling into place like he had expected them to. Earlier in the morning, the discovery of the campsite had lifted everyone’s spirits, but after that, nothing, not one lead.
It didn’t make sense. How could they leave such a blatant clue, oblivious to the threat approaching them, and then disappear completely? The best explanation he had come up with was that the torrential rains had obscured their trail. That was the most likely scenario; however, even that thought didn't put him at ease. “Don’t look for a zebra in a herd of horses,” many superior agents had cautioned him over the years. But now, that was what he got paid to do. So he continuously ran through every possible scenario he could come up with.
Even more of a concern to the experienced clean-up expert was how the pair had gotten so far ahead. Two people on foot couldn’t possibly make that much progress so quickly. Did that mean they had help? Was there something else up there waiting for his agents? It had been a long time since he felt so ill at ease, so uncertain. Collins normally wrapped up a mission, no matter how disastrous it was, in a matter of days. He still wasn’t sure how this one would play out.
Collins recognized the early signs of fatigue--dry eyes with heavy lids and scattered fragments of thought--but he would have to put them aside for now. After the evening report, perhaps he could steal a few hours for himself. Until then, another cup of coffee would have to do. He needed to continue to sort through his thoughts, identifying just where this mission had gone wrong.
The General sat back and watched Collins' progress as the younger man racked up miles across the cold cement surface. He didn’t have to do anything at this point, except wait for Collins to reach a conclusion.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Cam took a deep breath as she arched her shoulders back and allowed the pack to drop. They had travelled quickly and easily, covering a good deal of distance in excellent time--finally coming to a stop in this small clearing. She was wound tight and needed to find a way to settle down. They didn’t have long to prepare, and she knew that she needed to be on the top of her game.
Glancing at Michael, she took a moment to assess his condition. He was surprisingly calm and relaxed. Cam had underestimated his resolve, she thought. He would follow through; she was convinced of that now.
Cam pulled the lightweight hammock out of her backpack. There had been no supply stop today, no way to predict where to place it. This one was all she could afford to add to her load for an entire day’s travel, and there was no way they would both fit in it comfortably. She went to work setting it up while Michael turned slowly, taking in the scene around him.
“I’ve got to sleep for a while,” Cam interrupted his analysis sheepishly. She had priorities, but knowing how his brain worked, she hesitated to disrupt the process.
“Sleep?” He questioned. “You can sleep now? When you know what’s coming?”
“Gotta sleep, Michael. Can’t function if you don’t. That’s how you make mistakes.” Cam’s words were already starting to come out thick with exhaustion, even as she continued to set the stage for the upcoming battle.
“No,” she corrected herself silently, “The upcoming skirmish.” This was nothing like the battle that was brewing in the distance. The storm was still to come. Her perfect storm. She smiled at the thought.
Cam pulled her knife out once again, lifting it toward a palm that stood on the edge of the small clearing. She stilled as a hand reached from behind and pulled lightly at her wrist. Long fingers encircled it easily. She turned briskly, and stopped herself short of shoving the heel of her other hand into his exposed throat.
Michael stiffened visibly, maintaining his hold, but pulling his body as far out of her reach as he could.
“See,” Cam grimaced, “That’s why I need to sleep.”
“Give it to me,” Michael spoke softly, “Tell me what you need, and I’ll do it while you rest.”
Cam relaxed, and allowed Michael to pull the weapon out of her grasp. “Still too much to do,” she shook her head, “But you can cut palms. It’ll give you a place to relax without getting soaked through again. Once we’ve settled in here, could you gather some small branches for firewood?”
Michael nodded and started to work, cutting the thick fronds, and arranging them in a neat pile, creating a lily pad of sorts in the middle of the marshy clearing.
Reaching into his pack, he pulled out the small tarp they had taken from the supply sacks in the hut and placed it on top of the palm fronds. His clothes had only just started to dry a bit, and he was thankful for the respite.
Cam quickly tethered the hammock in place, a little closer to the ground than on their previous jungle overnight stay. She didn’t even need to climb to secure it. Then she walked into the forest a short distance, looking for just the right tree. When she found it, she pulled a couple smaller branches off and returned to the clearing.
Michael had made good progress, and Cam moved her pack onto the oasis he had created, setting the branches down next to it. She saw his eyes track her motions as she pulled the necessary items out, and began to prepare.
She coiled the length of fishing line into a small circle and secured it to her belt loop with a short, leather lace. She tied it in a slipknot, for easy access. It was different from the fishing line that Michael had seen before, she knew. It was thicker, heavier, and the plastic rings attached to each end clearly identified it as a weapon. Still he didn’t say anything.
When Michael finished his project, he sat close to her kneeling form, and handed the knife back to her. Cam grabbed it and started working on the fresh branches. She peeled back the thick layer of bark, and used the blade to scrape the soft, inner bark into a tiny mound on the tarp. When she had all she wanted, she stripped two leaves off the plant and carefully wrapped the scrapings inside them. She tucked the small packages into her front pockets, one on each side.
She stared at the knife for a moment before pulling the smooth stone out of her pack--the one he had seen her use before-and began reverently stroking the metal across the hard surface.
Cam couldn’t take her eyes off him. She blamed it on exhaustion and curiosity. He watched each move she made without a word. She finished with the knife and returned it to its rightful place along the outside of her left ankle.
Cam leaned across Michael and reached into his pack, retrieving two foil pouches before continuing with her armament. “Need to eat,” she spoke simply. Everything she said now was curt and to the point. It had to be.
Michael accepted the food silently. He tore it open without looking down; his eyes were trained on her movements.
Cam raised small portions to her mouth at a time. It was all she could manage, tense and ready for the fight. No matter how hard she tried, she knew she would always choose the battlefield over the peace table. It was all she knew.
After finishing the tasteless, high-calorie meal, Cam continued with her routine. This was jungle warfare, her comfort zone, and she knew just what she needed in these conditions. She pulled the long parcel from her pack. Unfolding the cloth cautiously, she exposed the narrow tube and the darts.
Cam lifted one of the darts carefully by the blunt end, and shoved it into the tube through the round, plastic entrance. Then she laid the weapon down on the tarp. She placed two more darts next to it, and then wrapped the remainder back into the cloth and returned them to her pack.
Michael spoke for the first time since she had begun arming herself. “What is that?” He asked, tilting his head toward the thin metal tube.
“Blowgun,” Cam answered. “Great weapon. The longer the tube, the greater the range.” Impending sleep slurred her words, left her open. “Out here, you don’t need much distance.
Michael’s gaze shifted to the two darts lying next to the blowgun. His expression changed from curiosity to something she couldn’t quite recognize. It made her sober up a little.
“Chemistry minor,” Michael spoke softly. “You knew, didn’t you?”
Cam just stared back.
“You knew Succinylcholine wouldn’t work at the prison. You knew it was too heavy to aerosolize. So, why?” Michael rose to his feet, he rubbed the palm of his hand with the fingers of the other.
“You weren’t showing much enthusiasm for escape, so I gave you a little push.” Cam answered honestly. This was much more conversation than she cared for right now. “I need to sleep, Michael.”
“One minute,” he held up a finger. “No, I mean, why did you bring it at all? What do you need it for?”
“Hell of a weapon,” Cam sighed, “Tip a dart with it, and you’ve got an instant, silent kill.”
She stood up and approached him. Caressing the GPS receiver in his hand, she looked at him with half-closed eyes. “Gotta sleep now, wake me when they reach the mile mark.” Cam didn’t need to point to the location on the screen, she knew Michael understood.
With that last thought, she put two hands and one knee onto the hammock, steadying it, before she hoisted her body up and curled in around herself, facing away from Michael. Before she drifted off, she heard him walk into the forest. Gathering wood, she hoped.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Gretchen stood back for a moment and watched her team progress. They were spread out to cover their grid effectively, and each man moved forward at a reasonable pace. Lopez was her point, and also the best tracker she had. Several times he lagged behind, trying to gain some awareness of their surroundings, and Gretchen had to remind him of his duties. “Point” meant “lead,” and that was exactly what she expected from him.
They had fallen behind her timetable, thanks to Collins’ intervention. Now they had a great deal of time to make up.
Lopez raised two fingers overhead and lowered them slowly to a point just in front of him. He proceeded to the spot slowly, sinking into the soggy ground, and waiting for the rest of his team to meet him there.
“What is it?” Gretchen demanded.
“Broken branches, leaves,” Lopez began. “A boot print. This is not a fresh trail, it is at least two hours old, maybe more.”
“How do you know?” Walker asked. He was the youngest of the group, the radio operator. The least experienced, but fearless, as far as Gretchen had been able to assess from his Company file. She wished he had been part of the team guarding the Burrows boy; perhaps they wouldn’t be in this mess if he had been there.
“No sap,” Lopez shrugged, rubbing a leaf between his fingers. “A leaf will ooze for at least an hour after it’s butchered like this.”
“Butchered?” Morris laughed. He was the oldest and most experienced member of her team. “I hope you’re not worried about butchering plants! We’ve got better things to butcher tonight.”
“Enough!” Gretchen spoke sternly before focusing her attention on the tracker. “Does it go anywhere? Do you see anything?”
Lopez scanned the forest in front of him. He lifted several leaf fragments off the ferns swarming his feet, examining them closely. “It looks like it’s going this direction,” he answered, pointing toward an invisible trail.
“Call it in,” Morris demanded. “Walker, bring the radio.”
“No!” Gretchen responded quickly, probably a little more quickly than she should have. All heads turned in her direction. She ran a hand through her hair, and took a couple deep breaths before she growled out her order. “This is my call, Morris. We need to be sure this is the right trail. I am not calling it in until I know that this isn’t some local Indian path.”
The four operatives proceeded a little more quickly now, Lopez in the lead. He pointed out several more boot prints and a path of tattered leaves that seemed to be leading directly toward the small town at the peak of this incline. When they discovered an empty water bottle, they were convinced they had made solid contact with the fugitives' trail.
It was ten minutes until report time, and Alpha team came to a halt. They were waiting anxiously for their team leader to report in and discover what headquarters would demand.
Gretchen took the satellite radio from the young operative and walked away from the group, plugging the earpiece in as she went. “Alpha team leader reporting in, sir,” she called loud enough for her team to hear as she walked farther away.
“Base, here. Anything, Alpha leader?” Collins’ deep voice bellowed in her ear, and Gretchen hurried to turn down the volume.
“No, sir, we’ve got nothing,” Gretchen responded quietly. “We picked up an old trail, but it’s weeks old. Nothing else, sir.”
“Stay in your zone. No more than two more hours tonight, Morgan,” Collins warned. “Will notify you if your orders change.”
“Yes, sir,” Gretchen responded meekly, “Will do.” She reached to the underside of the device and flipped the switch to the “off” position before she returned to her team.
Three faces stared up anxiously as she approached. “We are now in ‘radio silence’, Gretchen announced. “Bravo team is headed our way, with designated coordinates for a rendezvous. Our orders are to press forward, gentlemen.” Her smile broadened, “This is happening tonight. And it is our fight.”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Alex sat next to Guerrero during the break. It had become a routine. The other two men sat across from them and they all ate quietly, contemplating the significance of the most recent report.
Five experienced teams had been dispatched in search of a single ex-agent and an amateur; yet two days into the hunt, there was nothing to suggest they were any closer to their prey than they had been yesterday morning when they rappelled down to the forest floor.
“I don’t get it,” Guerrero said. He bent down and loosened the laces on his boots to accommodate two days’ worth of swelling.
“What don’t you get, sir?” Alex questioned.
“Joe, call me Joe,” Guerrero began, “You knew them, right?”
Alex stiffened a bit, hoping he was the only one that noticed. “Him, yeah. I tracked him all the way down here,” he answered casually. “But her, I only saw her for a couple of days. Hell,” he laughed, “I thought she was a man at first.”
“So, how did you figure it out?” Guerrero appeared interested now.
“Didn’t, really. I guess they decided they needed a third man to get out, so they just sort of let me in on it,” Alex shrugged, and turned slowly to face the other man. “So, what don’t you get?”
“How did we lose them?” Guerrero blurted out. “How did we get so close and not pick up their trail?”
Alex felt a little sorry for the younger man; all in all, he seemed like a straight-up guy. At least he would have been if he wasn’t a Company operative. Alex wiped a hand across his face, smearing the mud and grime around, but not really making a difference. “Look, it seems to me like they wanted us to find that site. I don’t think it was an accident.”
Guerrero looked up at the older man. “So, that’s your analysis, Agent Mahone?” He asked in a quiet voice, one that neither of the other men would hear.
“Yes,” Alex answered confidently. “I want to find them, but I think we’ll be lucky if we do. She planned this, every detail.”
Guerrero appeared to be satisfied by his response, and Alex smiled to himself. He had just solidified his trustworthiness without actually compromising the position of his friends.
Unconsciously, Alex reached down and rubbed along the length of his leg wound. Too late, he noticed that Joe was watching his movement.
“Roll it up,” Guerrero commanded, “Let me take a look.”
Alex sucked in a breath and did as ordered.
“Damn! That’s ugly. It’s gonna leave a nasty scar.” The younger man reached over and touched Alex’ leg just above the jagged cut. He turned and pulled a small first-aid kit out of his pack. “Let me take those Neanderthal stitches out and clean it up.”
Alex swallowed hard. The last thing he needed was for this man to pull out those stitches and catch the silver chip in his hand. “Uh, no. I-I’m good,” he stammered. “It’s already starting to heal and I don’t want to start over again. Clean it up if you want, put something on it,” he offered as an alternative.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Michael reached down and rubbed her shoulder gently. Cam sat straight up and jumped out of the hammock in one fluid motion. “Time?” She asked. She appeared to be instantly and fully awake and alert.
“One mile,” Michael confirmed, handing the receiver to her.
Cam dropped to her knees on the tarp and added the narrow tube to the other weapons attached to her waistline. She carefully wrapped the extra two darts in a small piece of the larger cloth, and laced it in next to the blowgun.
It looked awkward and uncomfortable to Michael, but it didn’t seem to phase Cam as she scrambled toward the stack of branches Michael had collected. It took less than a minute for the edges to catch and the blaze to set in.
Cam looked around the small clearing. “Okay, everything we need is packed and ready to go.” Turning to Michael, she ordered, “Take a nap.”
Michael’s mouth dropped. “A nap? I don’t think I can sleep right now!” He barked.
Cam placed a finger against her lips. “Lay down, Michael. You’re going to need the rest.” Her voice was much too calm for the situation.
Michael walked closer to the hammock, but he kept his eyes on Cam. “What are you going to be doing?” He asked warily.
“I’m going to ‘freshen’ our trail a little bit,” she responded as casually as if she was discussing grocery shopping.
Michael scowled in response. His hand was on the hammock, but he didn’t make another move.
Cam sighed loudly. “When they know the trail is fresh, they’ll spread out again, trying to close in from all sides,” she explained hastily. “One agent is easier to deal with than four or five.”
Michael remained motionless, while Cam was a ball of energy. “I’ve got to go, Michael. Please, just lay down. Please,” she emphasized the final plea.
He nodded in agreement and hoisted himself into the hammock. He had no intention of sleeping, but apparently Cam needed the reassurance that he was safely tucked in for the night.
By the time he found a comfortable position, and turned to face her, Cam was gone. The hammock swayed with his weight and he heard a soft thump, thump, thump, with each movement. He glanced down and noticed Cam’s boots laced together, hanging across one of the tether lines and knocking against the tree with each sway of the hammock.
Michael listened to the sounds of the forest, waiting for a sound, any sound, that was different.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Cam looked at the receiver once before burying it in her cargo pocket. Her enemies had night vision goggles, possibly even thermal imaging, so keeping the illuminated screen readily available was not an option right now.
She memorized their current position, and made a mental note of how it related to the campsite. She had twenty minutes, thirty at most, to do what she needed to do and find an appropriate place to wait.
Looking toward the trees surrounding her, she began fracturing leaves and small branches on the path back from where she had come. Some she grabbed at her shoulder level, others she reached up to pull off from higher branches. Ones that were closer to Michael’s height.
She stepped lightly from one tree root to another, leaving behind only the clues she wanted to be found.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Lopez continued to lead the group. Their progress went on at a steady pace. Everyone except the tracker had donned night vision goggles, studying the surrounding jungle as they went.
“Here it is,” Lopez held up an insignificant leaf fragment. The other team members flipped the bulky apparatus away from their faces to get a look at what he was showing them. It took a couple of minutes to adjust to the sudden loss of light.
Gretchen pulled it out of his hand and felt a small amount of liquid ooze onto her hand. She grinned, “We’re close.”
Lopez nodded in return.
“Spread out,” Gretchen commanded. “Lopez, you’re the left flank. Proceed around, and come in from the far side. Morris, you’re right flank. Walker and I will cover the front.” She signaled to the men, and they immediately started off to their designated zones.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
If she hadn’t spent so many years standing still and breathless, Cam would have buckled over in laughter. She couldn’t believe her good fortune. It seemed her luck hadn't run out yet..
Not only had the enemy picked up her new trail, but they detailed their game plan just twenty feet in front of her!
She had been concerned about the details of the attack, the number of operatives, and who was in charge. But in one nice, neat package, she had all the details spelled out for her. Now she had no reason to hesitate. No need to preserve the peons.
“Flankers first,” she reminded herself. Circling the clearing and approaching from the opposite direction made them the biggest threat. She even had names for them, that made it all the more personal. It really wasn’t that she wished them dead, but that was what they wanted for her, so, quid pro quo.
Cam remained flat on the ground, hidden in the brush for three minutes. Long enough for her prey to spread out and establish their own territories. Then she rose silently from the forest floor. She started off toward the left. “I guess Lopez is first,” she told herself.
She covered the distance quickly, and then slowed when she heard his movements. If he noticed her approach and turned, the advantage became his, and Cam couldn’t afford that right now. Not with three other agents out there.
He wasn’t too tall, just a few inches taller than her. That made it easy. Everything happened at once. Cam narrowed the distance between them and tugged on the small lace on her belt loop. The fishing line fell into her hand and she grabbed one smooth ring with each hand. Before the entire length was extended, she was inches behind the younger man.
He never saw it coming. She threw the line over his head and around his neck with her hands crossed behind him. She held her left hand in place and pulled steadily and forcefully with the right, like she was starting a lawn mower or some other small engine. Except with a garrote, it never took a second pull. Lopez didn’t even have time for a gasp or wide-eyed wonder; he simply slumped to the forest floor.
Cam pulled back as quickly as she could, and worked in a wide, circular pattern toward the other flank.
It took her ten minutes to head back and negotiate the terrain toward the right flank in the dark. It was frustrating, but necessary, Cam couldn’t afford to leave him to create a second front. Once she found it, his trail was easy to follow. He definitely wasn’t trying to hide his advance. If anything, he was sloppy and inattentive.
She only tracked him for a minute before he advanced into another small clearing. “Idiot!” Cam thought as she lifted the blowgun to her lips and aimed. There weren’t a lot of opportunities for a silent, distance kill in the jungle, but he just gave her one.
She tilted the weapon back just a bit to make sure the dart was seated close to the mouth piece. He was a good thirty feet away, and she would need the full force of her effort and the entire distance of the tube to ensure an accurate strike.
Cam couldn’t follow the path of the dart once her breath launched it. It was too dark to really see anything. So she occupied her time by loosening the cloth and loading another dart into the tube. It wasn’t necessary, though. Four seconds after the dart left the tube, Morris slapped his hand against the back of his neck. Six seconds later, he crumpled to the ground in a mass of convulsing limbs. Not a nice way to go, she thought, but at least it was quick.
Closing in on the other two agents was a little trickier. Cam had seen the woman take off toward the left, and the young man go toward the right, but both were subtle angles. Cam was certain that the woman was the information source, so she couldn’t afford to hit the wrong target.
It had been twenty minutes already. If they proceeded on the same course, Cam only had minutes to finish this. She wouldn’t risk either agent getting too close to Michael. He was her responsibility, and she wasn’t willing to sacrifice him.
The figure was only ten feet in front of her, and Cam lowered herself to the ground, slinking closer. It was the last male agent. She sighed inaudibly in relief. Four minutes, that was all the time she had to neutralize this target and get back to the campsite. She crept closer to him as quickly as she could. Silence was an unfortunate imperative that slowed her progress, but she maintained it nonetheless. She had to rely on her training to guide her decisions at this point.
She closed in slowly, assessing her target; Walker, that was his name. Cam reached back to her leg and unsheathed her knife, she was less than five feet away now, and she was ready. She planted her hands on the ground underneath her torso, one still holding the blade, and slowly, steadily lifted herself off the forest floor.
Without warning, Walker turned around, catching Cam’s rising form in the green tint of the night vision lens. He gasped loudly, and then lunged toward her. Cam dropped back to the ground immediately, sweeping his legs out from under him with her own. She expected him to be caught off guard, but he wasn’t. He immediately rolled to the side and stood up quickly, facing his attacker.
Cam had no time left, she knew. Seconds could mean a lifetime. A messy kill was the last thing she wanted right now, but the young man was advancing swiftly, leaving her few options.
She dove low and rolled around behind him before he understood her intentions. As quickly as she hit the ground, she rose again, directly behind the bewildered young man. Grabbing his hair in one hand and drawing his head back, she raked the blade across his neck from one ear to the other. She dug in deep enough to ensure he wouldn’t rise again, and then jumped back to avoid the spatter.
Cam didn’t take time to watch the lifeless body drop to the ground, she just grabbed the radio off his back and ran straight toward the campsite. She pulled the receiver out of her pocket and looked at it as she ran. No need to analyze, she knew the exact coordinates of the campsite, and the blip on the screen that was suddenly at that location, screamed back at her, “Too late!”
She barreled forward, full speed, without thought of stealth or self-preservation. She had to get there before…
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Michael kept listening for something new, something different. So far, all he had heard were the normal night jungle sounds. Sometimes he opened his eyes, other times he closed them, it didn’t really make much difference, he couldn’t see much from where he was anyway. He avoided looking toward the fire, it blinded him completely.
Then finally he heard it. It shouldn’t have been a familiar sound, but after months practicing for the bank robbery, he not only heard, but felt the slide pull back as a bullet slid into the chamber and the handgun was suddenly lethal and ready for conquest. He drew in a silent breath and waited.
The approaching form was moving closer to the hammock now. “Left you all alone out here, didn’t she?” Michael heard the smirk in her tone, but still didn’t move.
“Back off!” Cam screamed, jumping out into the clearing halfway between the woman and the hammock. Then her eyes grew wide in amazement.
“”Oh, plea…” That was all Gretchen managed before her screen went blank.
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