with rifles-Evan thought they were M16s based on what he’d seen on the History Channel. The men were dressed like soldiers: camouflaged uniforms that hadn’t been washed in a very long time, which, he thought, matched the appearance of the men wearing them. For a second, he thought they were going to shoot Mitch on the spot, but then they approached him.
As they got closer, three of the four men held back, while the fourth approached Mitch like an old friend.
Mitch and the other man chatted for a couple of minutes. They shared a laugh, and they shook hands again before walking together toward the SUV. Evan’s heart jumped as his stomach cramped. They were coming for him. He crab walked to the far side of the backseat, adding space between him and the approaching kidnappers.
This was his last chance to get away. He turned to the left-side passenger door to pull the latch and yelled at the sight of another soldier standing on the other side. He had no idea where he’d come from.
Mitch and the other man were here now, and both back doors opened simultaneously, a stern-faced soldier on his left, and coldly smiling Mitch on his right.
“Don’t even think about it, kid,” Mitch said. “You’ve got a long hike ahead of you, and it’ll be a lot harder with your hands tied. Make us do it, and we will. It’s your call.”
He had no choice. This was why it was better to fight to the death before being taken. After that first moment, all the options were shitty ones.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” said the soldier that Mitch had been talking to. “My name is Oscar.” He reached a hand into the car, and Evan recoiled, almost falling out the other door on the far side.
The soldier closest to him reached out to catch him, but it wasn’t necessary.
“Why are you doing this?” Evan asked. He heard the whiny tone in his voice, but he couldn’t help it.
Oscar’s features softened. He didn’t smile, but it was close. “I realize that this must be frightening for you,” he said. “How could it not be? You go to bed one night, and then in so short a time, you’re in so strange a place. I’m sorry that it had to happen this way.”
“What is happening?”
“You’re embarking on a new adventure,” Oscar said. His eyes didn’t frighten Evan as much as Mitch’s did.
“I don’t need a new adventure. I don’t want a new adventure.”
Oscar smiled gently. “I understand. Unfortunately, we don’t always get to choose the events in our lives. You need to come with us, Evan. No one means to harm you. In fact, these guns are intended to protect you.”
Evan looked to the soldier who’d tried to catch him. The soldier gave him that quick smile that adults always give to kids when they make eye contact. The one that was meant to say that they were not a threat. It was also the smile of every child molester. Can you help me find my lost puppy?
“We have a long way to go before dark, Evan,” Oscar said. “We need to get moving.”
His mind raced for a way to stall. “Where are we going?”
Oscar cocked his head. “Does it matter? One way or another, I have to deliver you. As my friend Mitchell here said, it will be so much easier if you come along easily.” He let that sink in, then motioned with a flick of his fingers for Evan to join him. “Let’s get started, shall we?” He stood to his full height, and pivoted to the side of the door, opening a corridor for Evan to step outside.
In the end, he had no choice. He scooted on his butt across the bench seat and out into the weeds. They stabbed at the soles of his feet and tickled his legs-not in a way that made you want to laugh, but in the way that made you want to take a shower.
“Good for you,” Oscar said. “You chose well.” He extended his hand again. “Let’s make it official. I’m Oscar, and it’s nice to meet you.”
Evan stared at the hand for a few seconds, and then he took it. “Evan Guinn,” he said. Oscar’s palms were as rough and hard as granite. He stopped short of saying that it was nice to meet him.
Releasing Evan’s hand, Oscar turned to Mitch. “We’ll take good care of the boy,” he said. “Rest assured.”
Mitch clearly didn’t care one way or the other. He climbed back into the truck. The last thing Evan heard before the door closed was, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
As the truck’s engine revved, Oscar gently pulled Evan out of the way. The SUV drove in a wide circle through the clearing to turn around, and then it was gone.
He was alone now with his new captors. Evan became aware of Oscar’s rough hand on his bare shoulder.
“Try not to be afraid,” the man said.
Evan fought to control his breathing, which had started to chug like a train as he fought back the tears.
“I promise that no one wants to hurt you. I know that there’s been some of that in your past, but you’ll find none of that here.”
Evan scowled and looked up at the man. What did he know about his past?
“We know a lot about you, Evan. I am not in a position to explain these things to you, but it’s very important to us that you remain safe. That can be difficult in this country, and that truly is why I am accompanied by these gentlemen with the guns.”
Evan’s vision blurred with tears, and he swiped them away. People who didn’t mean harm didn’t kidnap people.
“The man who just left,” Oscar went on. “That was Mitchell Ponder. He is a very, very dangerous man. Now that he has left, I promise you that you are safe.”
“But why am I here?” If he could just know that one thing, then maybe something would start to make sense. Just that one bit of information might make him relax. Just a little.
Oscar sighed and cocked his head. It was a look of genuine sympathy, Evan thought. “Tell you what,” he said. “Let’s start walking so that we don’t waste any more daylight. I’ll try to think of a way to tell you something without betraying the confidences that I have pledged to honor. I know it’s not really the answer you’re looking for, but will it make do for a while?”
Again, there was no choice. Evan nodded.
They walked in single file, with two of the armed soldiers in the front, followed by Oscar and then Evan. Three soldiers brought up the rear.
The jungle swallowed them all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jonathan’s team arrived in Colombia by flying to different cities on different airlines with flight times scattered across the clock. Boxers had left first, through Miami to Panama City and on into Cartagena. Twelve hours later, Jonathan and Harvey flew on different flights that took labored routes to Santa Marta, arriving within ninety minutes of each other. Jonathan made sure his was scheduled to arrive first, just in case Harvey needed additional encouragement after he’d touched down.
They found each other in baggage claim, then headed out into the thriving sauna that was Santa Marta. “I’m hating this already,” Harvey said. “In case you were wondering.” He ran a finger under the collar of his T-shirt.
Jonathan opted not to tell him that as hot as it was here on the coast, it was going to get a hell of a lot hotter in the jungle. Here, at least, they had a breeze.
“Are we winging it now, or do we have a plan?” Harvey asked.
Jonathan didn’t honor the question with an answer. “We need to visit a friend,” he said.
They grabbed a cab, and Jonathan directed the driver to a hostel downtown that was known to cater to American college students on their obligatory narcotics pilgrimage. Even by the squalid standards of the neighborhood, the hostel was a dump.
“Oh, yeah,” Harvey groused. “This just gets better and better.”
Jonathan silenced him with a glare and paid the driver. He added a generous tip, which, at least in the old days, was the equivalent of buying blindness and deafness, in case anyone asked questions.
Together on the street in front of the entrance, Jonathan placed his palm on Harvey’s chest to get his attention. “I need you to be my silent partner in here. Felipe is an old friend, but a suspicious one, out of
