Jungle Inferno (32 page)

“Still. It’s possible someone has found us.”

Escobedo laughed. “And who would that be? The people around here know enough to stay away from me and everyone else minds their own business.”

“If what you say about Halloran and his psychic abilities is true…”

“Pah! True or not, Felix has slammed down a mental shield. In any event,
El Capitan
is close to breathing his last. When we are rid of him it will all be over.”

“Let’s get to it, then. I must leave shortly.” He dumped out the rest of his coffee and set the empty tin cup on a rock.

“Fine.” He moved into the central part of the camp. “
Hola!
Time for the morning’s entertainment. Two of you please bring our guest out here to me.” The two men closest to the tent rose from the log they’d been sitting on and started to get Mark.

Then all hell broke loose.

At the sound of the first shots Faith flinched and nearly lost her balance but she righted herself quickly, still gripping the gun. From her perch she had a pretty good view of the central part of the camp. She saw the two men heading for the tent pitch forward and fall. Suddenly everyone was running around like crazed chickens. Four men ran from one of the cabins carrying what looked to her like enormous weapons.

From the perimeter she heard the sounds of rapid-fire rifles spraying the trees and bushes.

The jungle came alive at the disruption. Leaves rustled in trees and plants as birds of every color flew into the air, squeaking and squawking, flapping their wings in a desperate bid to escape the disturbance. Howler monkeys screeched, their ear-splitting cries piercing notes above the splat of bullets. Faith could hear the sounds of animals crashing through the underbrush as they raced for protection.

A thin, dark man in the center of the camp was screaming at everyone in Spanish, shouting orders to the men, who began indiscriminately spraying the area with bullets.

A man dressed in grey slacks and darker grey shirt, an anomaly compared to the jungle attire the others wore, ran from the far side of the camp toward the clearing at the other side, where a helicopter stood waiting. He waved his hand in a circling motion and the rotors began their preliminary whine.

Faith couldn’t spot any of the Phoenix men but she knew they were there by the constant chatter of their guns. She focused on the tent where she was sure Mark was being held.

Hold on, Mark. We’re here. We’re here.

As the man in grey slacks approached the helicopter at a dead run, Faith heard the whistling sound of what she later learned was a rocket propelled grenade and the

’copter exploded in a bright fireball. The man in grey fell back, pushed to the ground by the force of the explosion.

“Oh my God,” Faith screamed, forgetting the order for silence in the shock of the explosion.

“La senora!”

She heard the voice from below her and looked down to see a man raising his rifle toward her. She reacted automatically, barely taking time to think, all those hours on the range paying off. Before the man could fire she aimed the Glock at him and emptied the clip into him. He fell back, his face and chest covered in blood, his finger tightening on the trigger one last time in death, the rifle spraying bullets into the air.

Her heart was racing so fast she was sure it would explode any minute.

Think of him as a paper target. Don’t think of him as a person.

But she suddenly remembered her promise—
I’ll get you out even if I have to kill
someone.
She hadn’t expected it to come to that but she realized with a shock that she’d do it again if need be.

Suddenly Mike was there, giving her a reassuring smile. “Good girl. You’re doing great. Just hang on a little longer, okay? And be sure you put that second clip in the gun.”

When he heard the click of the clip jamming home, he moved away from her toward the camp.

Faith, frozen in her position, trying to make herself breathe, saw bodies everywhere. Only two men were left alive now, the man in grey and the one who’d shouted orders earlier. The latter ran for the tent and moments later Faith felt her heart clench as he dragged Mark into the clearing, a knife at his throat.

She nearly cried out at Mark’s condition—filthy, covered in mud, dried blood everywhere on his body, his face twisted in pain. Before she could stop herself she climbed down from the tree and raced toward the open space. At the edge of the clearing a hand grabbed her and dragged her back.

Troy pulled her next to him and shook his head. “Stay here. It’s all right.” All right? How could it be all right? They’d come all this way to rescue Mark and now he was about to be killed right in front of her.

“I have your captain,” the man called. “Let me leave here in my vehicle or I will slit his throat.”

The man in grey had moved to stand next to him, a gun in his hand. “I’ll shoot the first person who tries to walk in here,” he warned.

Faith tried to tug free of Troy’s grip but his fingers were like steel. He shook his head again. “It will be all right,” he mouthed. “I promise.” In the next instant a shot split the air and the man’s head exploded like a ripe tomato. He fell back, one arm still holding Mark but the knife hand thankfully flopped to the side.

“The next one’s for you,
Lobo
,” a voice called out and in seconds the Wolf was nothing more than a pile of grey material next to the other man.

Now Troy released Faith and she raced toward the clearing, to where Dan was already lifting Mark from Escobedo’s grip and stretching him out on the ground. Faith threw herself onto him, ignoring his injuries, ignoring the blood and dirt, ignoring everything except the fact that this man was alive…and in her arms. Still breathing. Still here.

“Hi, Tidbit.” His words were edged with pain but his mouth tried to turn up in a smile.

“Hi,” she sobbed. “F-Fancy meeting you in a place like this.” Behind her she heard Dan chuckle, then he reached down to lift her up. “We need to get out of here, Faith. And we need to get Mark on the litter. Come on.” Behind her she heard Mike call for Ed to bring in the helicopter and, as it landed, Rick came running from wherever he’d been, carrying his sniper rifle. She knew he’d been the one to fire the last two deadly shots and she couldn’t find words to thank him.

He began moving around the camp, leaving something every place he stopped, Mike following behind him with a roll of what looked like heavy twine.

“Hang on a little longer, buddy,” Troy said, as he and Mike strapped Mark into the litter from the bird.

As Ed landed, Faith saw a member of Escobedo’s group still alive, scrambling out of the foliage where he’d been hidden.

“Grab him,” she shouted, then froze as Dan moved forward, hand extended to the man.

“That’s Alex,” Rick said softly. “The inside man. It’s a wonder they didn’t figure it out and kill him. Get him over here and onto the chopper with us.” He shook hands with the man before helping him into the cabin.

Then they were all on board, the litter locked down, Troy on one side already giving Mark a shot for the pain and beginning the arduous process of cleaning his wounds. Faith sat on the other side, gripping his hand, tears still streaming down her face. The rotors whined, dust kicked up around them and they lifted off. They were maybe five hundred feet above the ground when Rick depressed a button on the tiny mechanism in his hand and the entire camp exploded.

Faith looked over at him, eyebrows raised.

“Just a little precaution,” he told her. “Better for them to all just disappear rather than have someone find their bodies. This way we can report a clean kill.” He grinned at her. “By the way, nice shooting back there.”

“Thanks,” she told him, in a shaky voice. “I hope I don’t have to do it again anytime soon.”

His face turned serious. “You’ll have a reaction to this when everything settles down and the adrenaline rush is gone. Try not to waste too much time on it. Think of it as taking out the garbage.”

“I-I’ll try. And thanks.” She took in a deep breath and let it out.

“Tidbit?” Mark’s words were slurring from the effects of the medication.

“Right here.” She squeezed his hand.

“Love you.”

“I love you too.” Tears were flooding her cheeks again.

His eyes closed and Faith looked up at Troy, frightened.

“He’s fine,” he assured her. “Just knocked out from the pain meds. He’s as hot as a pistol from fever. I think all his wounds are infected. I’m going to give him massive antibiotics and then finish cleaning him up. It’s better if he’s asleep.”

“Okay.” She lifted Mark’s hand to her lips and kissed his fingers, then turned to the other men. “I don’t know how to thank you all. I mean, for doing this.” Rick smiled. “Just a walk in the park, Faith. Happy to do it. But you tell that big lug when he wakes up we don’t plan on having to do it again.”

“I will.”

She heard Dan on the radio talking to the men at the cabin, then making a call to someone else to give a terse report on what happened.

“All set,” he told everyone over the noise of the rotors. “There are about to be a couple of unhappy people in Washington.”

They set down briefly at the edge of Iquito where two men were waiting for Alex.

Rick spoke to them briefly, then Alex walked away with them, turning once to wave at everyone before climbing into one of the waiting vehicles.

“Escobedo had his sister,” Rick explained to Faith. “These men are going to help him get her away from where they’ve been hiding her.”

They lifted off again and Faith hitched closer to the litter. She sat holding Mark’s hand as they flew into the bright glare of the morning sun. They were finally going home.

* * * * *

Trey Winslow had just arrived home and was in his den pouring a before-dinner drink when Georgia came to the doorway.

“Trey?” Her voice sounded thin and her eyes were filled with worry.

“What is it?”

“There are…some people here to see you.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “People? I wasn’t expecting anyone.” Two men in the full uniform of military police appeared behind her. One of them stepped forward. “Senator, you’ll need to come with us.” Trey’s hand shook as he set the glass down and his stomach heaved. “Can you tell me what this is about? I’m afraid there’s some mistake.” The Attorney General moved into the den, a somber expression on his face. “I’m afraid not, Trey. I came along myself so we can do this with a minimum of fuss. But I think you know what this is all about.”

“Trey?” Georgia looked at him. “What’s happening?”

He picked up his jacket from the chair where he’d dropped it. “It’s all right, sweetheart. Just a little misunderstanding. But you might call Sam Morgan and tell him his legal skills might be needed.”

He buttoned his jacket, tightened his tie, kissed his wife and walked out of his house for what he was afraid was probably the last time.

* * * * *

Mr. Brown and Mr. Green sat quietly in their seats as their plane landed smoothly at Ronald Reagan Airport. They’d said little to each other since the call came to get their asses back to Washington. Things were falling apart. They knew it.

All they wanted at this point was to finish up their business, get the hell out of Dodge and take their money with them. How bad could hiding away on an island be, anyway?

As the plane rolled up to the gate, the co-pilot exited the cockpit and walked purposefully into the cabin until he reached their seats. He motioned for the passenger in the aisle seat to stand and took his place.

“Please wait until all the other passengers have deplaned,” he said in a quiet voice.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t cause a problem.”

Mr. Green tried to bluff his way through. “What’s going on? What’s the meaning of this?”

The co-pilot just looked at them. “I think you know that. If it were up to me, I’d just shoot both of you and be done with it but we all have rules to follow.” Mr. Brown looked as if he were about to throw up and Mr. Green broke out in a cold sweat. They sat wedged in by the co-pilot until the plane was empty of all the other passengers. Seconds later three men in the uniforms of the military police entered, their faces grim.

“You need to come with us,” the first man announced. “You won’t want to cause a disturbance. Any one of us would be more than happy to shoot you, given the chance.” Mr. Brown and Mr. Green looked at each other. It was truly over and the jaws of hell yawned before them.

* * * * *

Secretary of Defense Howard McLean walked into the office of his chief of staff, Raymond “Digger” Frost, his face tight with anger. The telephone call from JSOC had been like a pistol shot to the head. If the proof hadn’t been sent to him on his very private email, he’d have vigorously denied it. But he couldn’t dispute the facts.

Shit. This was all he needed right now.

Digger was on the phone but at the look on his boss’s face he hastily said, “Call you back,” and hung up. “What’s up?”

McLean stared at the man in front of him, wondering how he could have misjudged him so badly. “I’ve known you a long time, Digger,” he said slowly. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

Digger’s smile disappeared. “Is something wrong, Chief?” McLean shoved his hands in his pockets. “You think you know someone and one day something happens and you realize that person is a stranger. Someone you don’t even understand.”

Sweat popped out on Digger’s forehead. “Mind telling me what this is all about?”

“I think you know what I’m talking about. It’s about being a traitor. About selling out your country to make money. About turning your back on everything good and decent.”

“Chief, I—”

“They rescued Mark Halloran this morning,” McLean said.

Digger paled. “I beg your pardon?”

“It isn’t my pardon you should beg. It’s the souls of those brave men killed because you sold them out.” He turned toward the door and waved two military police into the office. “Get this garbage out of here.”

He could hear Digger protesting all the way down the hall and a terrible sadness settled over him. It would be a long time before he ever gave anyone that kind of trust again.