The Betrayed Series: Ultimate Omnibus Collection With EXCLUSIVE Post-Shiva Short Story (124 page)

The python apparently forgetting all about its human prey, released Rebecca. Instead, the snake reared, trying to slither back up to the high shelter of the canopy. The chimp climbed over Rebecca like she was a jungle gym, racing after the snake. Hissing, the python flung itself from the parachute to another tree.

The motion ripped the fabric.

Dropping, Rebecca closed her eyes. This was not going to be pretty.

But the harness caught, jerking her to a stop. More panicked than with purpose, Rebecca thrashed her legs. Finally, the strap gave, freeing her foot.

Nothing but the ground stopped her this time.

Stars, literal white stars, danced in her vision as her head struck a log. Blurry images filtered into her mind. The strangest being a little girl dressed in a bright-orange traditional kaftan with matching
gelee
headscarf.

“Hello,” the girl stated with a thick Congolese accent.

Not sure if the child was real or simply a consequence of her concussion, Rebecca passed out.

CHAPTER 6

══════════════════

Outside of Bomongo, Democratic Republic of the Congo

8:12 p.m. (CAT)

Brandt pretended to stumble on a thick vine. Frellan had the men cut the zip ties on Brandt’s legs but had insisted his hands stay bound. Which was fine by Brandt. It allowed the other men to relax around him. Especially after Brandt had been such a good boy the whole trek up the mountain.

Was his presumed compliance enough to give him a window of opportunity? Things had gone his way as they ventured into the jungle. The men had been forced to spread out, leaving only four men in his immediate vicinity. Others were in the nearby forest, but with only four nearby, Brandt might just be able to dispatch before the others could assist.

Wiping his brow with his arm, Brandt prepared to go from zero to sixty. This might be his last chance for escape. As the men chattered, Brandt picked up enough from their excitement to know that they were nearing the village. If he allowed them to secure him in the village, he was screwed. They would probably dope him again or begin the torture brigade. Either way, getting away would be next to impossible.

Taking a moment to center himself, Brandt breathed in. This could go badly. Like seriously badly. He was only one man against a dozen. Not just any dozen, but a dozen of highly trained mercenaries who knew this mountainside like he knew each and every one of Rebecca’s curves.

Rebecca.

Stuff it down, Brandt
.
Don’t get all maudlin. You
are
going to see her again.

Well, if luck swung his way.

A leaf fluttered next to him. Funny, a hole was blown through it. He glanced behind him, to see the rear guard slump to the ground.

What the fuck?

His head snapped forward. Beyond the forward guards, there was just more forest. Absolutely no window for someone to get a shot through. Unless your name was Davidson. Brandt’s heart soared, like literally beat a hundred times stronger. His men were here. He stumbled again, this time not faking it. His limbs simply couldn’t believe how fortunate they were.

What had gone from an insane gamble was now a fucking doable plan.

Brandt stared at the back of the closest guard’s head.

Game on
.

* * *

“What are we looking at?” Bunny asked, sitting down in an extremely comfortable computer chair.

Prenner had led them out of the dismally gray room, down several corridors and several security levels until they arrived in this distinctly colorful room. The room itself was nearly a cavern divided off into smaller sections by glass walls.

“We’ve got the thermal imaging Lopez requested,” Emily answered, then off a frown from Prenner, bowed her head, sat down, and made the motion of zipping her lips closed and throwing away the key.

“At least for right now,” Prenner stated. “The satellite had already been retasked for Nigeria, but we are catching a slice of the Congo for the next six minutes.”

“What would you need to see in Nigeria?” Bunny asked.

By the set of Prenner’s lips, she was not going to find out.

“Remember, Bunny,” Emily reminded her, “everything you see is classified.”

No kidding. Just a glance through the glass separators and Bunny could make out at least ten other military missions being monitored. Exactly how many missions did the Pentagon run a day?

“There is Brandt,” Prenner announced, pointing to a throbbing blue glob overlaying a red glob on the screen. That certainly didn’t even look human, let alone Brandt shaped. “That blue signal is his intra-dental transmitter.”

“So they are transporting him through the jungle, then?” Emily asked.

Prenner gave a sharp nod.

Brandt was flanked by three men. Bunny could only assume those were his Disciple guards. There were many other orange globs scattered throughout the forest. Many, many other globs. That was a lot of men.

“What are those?” Bunny asked, pointing to several light-yellow figures that stayed stationary.

“Dead bodies,” Prenner answered.

Bunny’s hand flew to her mouth. Was one of them Davidson?

Emily patted her arm. “Watch there.”

Not knowing why her handler was pointing to a speck so far away from Brandt, Bunny watched what appeared to be a villager. Then a bright-red flash. She followed Emily’s finger to another orange glob that slumped over, rapidly turning yellow.

“Davidson is using our scans to pinpoint the enemy’s location,” Emily explained.

Prenner nodded. “He is thinning the herd.”

“So the Disciples are just going to let themselves get picked off and let Brandt walk out of there?”

Emily looked to Prenner, clearly wanting the lieutenant to give Bunny the bad news.

“Not exactly. You can only cull so much until someone notices.”

“And then what?” Bunny asked, almost afraid to voice the question.

“Then the hell storm begins.”

* * *

Brandt felt his respiratory rate increase despite his explicit instructions to his lungs to keep anticipation on the down low. It wouldn’t be good to have his escape discovered before it had even begun.

With every passing moment and no further activity, or at least none that he could see, it was becoming harder and harder to wait it out. Had something happened? Was it back to him to make the move? They couldn’t be more than a few hundred yards from the tree line. Once exposed, his luck would be up.

Then one of the men ahead of Brandt tripped and nearly fell. The others laughed cruelly at the man’s awkward flailing to stay upright. He pointed down to his leg. It was caught in a game snare. Or at least it had been made to look like a game snare. Brandt noticed that the wire seemed a bit shiny for an old snare. He worried the guards would notice, but they were too busy berating the man for his oafishness.

Brandt kept his head down, plodding along, hopefully playing the part of the disheartened prisoner to perfection.

Despite the man’s protests, the other two moved forward, waving him off. Even though Brandt didn’t understand the native tongue, he knew body language. The other guards’ bodies said,
Take care of it yourself
, very, very loudly. They traipsed off ahead, moving more quickly to the village.

Even hardened mercenaries missed their beds and home-cooked meals. If Brandt weren’t mistaken, the scent of roasted goat drifted on the air. Both men seemed eager for dinner. Even Brandt’s stomach rumbled, and he was not all that fond of goat.

As Brandt approached the snared man’s position, he tensed. Was this a sign? Was he to incapacitate the man, take his weapon, and shoot his way out? They really needed to get better backup plans for a wedding-abduction scenario.

Just as Brandt brought his hands back, getting ready to thrust at the man’s windpipe, the guy jerked upright, bright-red blood squirting from a slice across his neck. He gurgled once, then slumped into his attacker’s arms.

Talli.

He put his finger to his lips as he propped the dead guard against a tree. Talli spread out two fingers, indicating to the remaining guards. Then he tapped a finger to his wrist and brought up one finger. Sweeping that finger out, he pointed in the direction of the village.

Brandt gave a curt nod.
Got it
. Talli melted back into the forest.

Then Brandt continued onward before his guards suspected anything.

In one minute, Davidson was going to take out the two remaining guards.

In sixty seconds, the shit was going to hit the fan.

* * *

Davidson checked his watch. Forty-eight more seconds to go.

He watched Brandt’s slow forest march through his glasses’ translucent lenses. The glasses were picking up the feed from the Pentagon’s satellite imagery. It was as if he could see their body heat. Pretty dang cool.

However, it wasn’t perfect. There was the subtlest of time delays, which made hitting men trekking through the jungle, going under and over obstacles, a tad difficult. Unfortunately, accuracy was kind of the name of the game for snipers. They were grossly outnumbered, and Brandt was in the thick of it. If they didn’t execute a clean extraction, the Disciples might easily decide to kill Brandt on the spot rather than let him get away with any information they believed he had.

This had to be quick, or it was going to get ugly.

He took the few moments he had left to scan the jungle around Brandt. Talli had retreated north, deeper into the jungle, securing Brandt’s exit. Other men were scattered amongst the huge old forest trees, creating a fan pattern.

It looked like they still had surprise on their side.

Not too bad for a plan put together while running up a mountain.

Davidson brought his attention back to Brandt. The thermal feed was flattening out, distorting distances. It couldn’t be helped, though, as the satellite was passing out of range soon, and the farther along the horizon it sank, the more distorted the image. Not ideal, but better than nothing. They only had about four minutes left of coverage, but they should only need a fraction of that.

Otherwise, they were in big trouble.

Well, bigger trouble than Brandt being kidnapped and Rebecca lost in the forest.

He had to trust Levont, though, just as Brandt was trusting him.

Settling back into his shooting form, Davidson adjusted his chin, relaxed his jaw, and steadied his breathing. He didn’t need to look at his watch any longer. He knew the countdown as well as if he had a metronome inside his skull.

Targeting the guard who lagged a few feet behind the front man, Davidson prepared his shot. Five more seconds.

They each ticked off in his head.

The man suddenly jerked Brandt forward, nearly level with him. Only inches separated the two.

Steady
, Davidson admonished himself,
you can see which is which
.

Then his glasses went blank.

Nothing but static.

Davidson did the only thing he could.

Shoot and pray he hit his target.

* * *

The bullet zinged past Brandt, hitting the guard in the ear. The man howled, grabbing at the wound, not understanding what had just happened.

Davidson had missed.

Christ All Mighty, Davidson had missed.

A cry went up behind them. One of the bodies must have been discovered. The guard brought up his weapon. Brandt had nothing but his own body as a weapon. Make that his forehead.

Brandt slammed his head into the guards, dazing them both. It was enough of a window for Brandt to throw his foot out, landing it squarely on the guard’s knee. The guy dropped to the ground. That wasn’t enough. Brandt grabbed the chain, wrapped it around the man’s neck, and jerked him up just in time for the guy to take several bullets meant for Brandt.

Bullets ripped through the foliage, although none hit their mark. What the fuck was wrong with Davidson?

And now the others were honing in on his position. Still constrained by the zip ties on his wrists, Brandt grabbed hold of the now dead guard’s gun. He didn’t have time to aim. He only had time to squeeze the trigger, sending a spray of lead from the automatic weapon. Lady Luck must have forgiven Brandt, because one of those bullets hit the guy square in the belly.

Then Talli was there, charging forward, laying down cover fire.

Brandt pulled the chain off the guard’s neck, taking his leash back.

Sprinting, Talli and he dove into the thick of the forest. Bullets chased them, digging into the mossy ground on all sides.

“What’s wrong with Davidson?” Brandt growled as a shot tore through his tuxedo pant leg.

“We lost satellite feed,” Talli answered, puffing as he ran. “He’s shooting blind.”

Well, that would explain it. Brandt could also assume that losing the feed had not been a part of the plan. Which might mean they were screwed. Especially as Talli and he hit a part of the mountainside that was nearly vertical. The mercenaries would catch up in no time.

Then an SUV burst from the trees, sailing over several lichen-encrusted logs, landing hard on the soft forest floor.

Doors flew open as Lopez yelled, “Elephant!”

Not understanding the code word, Brandt hauled ass to the car, throwing himself into the backseat as the corporal hit the gas, spinning the rear wheels in the mud. He ground the gears, getting them into four-wheel drive, but still, they spun, useless.

They were as much sitting ducks as if they were climbing that steep incline.

“I don’t mean to complain…” Brandt said as Talli cut the zip ties from his wrists.

“I got one word for you,” Lopez said between clenched teeth. “Elephant.”

“What the—” Brandt didn’t finish the question, as an elephant, an actual elephant, burst from the trees, straight for the SUV.

“Hang on!”

The long, straight tusks lowered as the elephant charged, an angry trumpet warning them of what was to come. Before Brandt could bring his weapon up, the beast slammed into the SUV. Using those tusks, it lifted the rear of the car. Then, with a heave, sent it flying end over end.