Christian nodded. 'I think we've just found a chink in their armor. Maybe we can capitalize on it, parlay it into a diversion when the time comes.'
They fixed their eyes on him, making their silent pledge to back him up. When the time came, he knew they'd have his backside. They were still outnumbered and would probably not make it. But in his book, going down fighting edged out two to the back of the head any day.
'Damn it. What the hell.. . ?' Christian tugged at his shirt. The talisman had begun to burn again. He pulled it out and rubbed the skin of his chest, unsure what to make of it. Mario Araujo reached for the dangling charm.
'Ayza the Protector. Who made this for you?' the man asked.
'Bianca Salvador. She insisted I wear it.' He tucked it back into his shirt. 'But the damned thing burns like hell. I must be allergic to something she used.'
'Or maybe Ayza is only trying to get the attention of a nonbeliever.' Araujo smiled and cocked his head. 'Perhaps our predicament is not as hopeless as it appears.'
'Not you too.' He grimaced, his chest still feeling the effects.
But the native man only shrugged.
Christian shook his head, then took a discreet look over his shoulder. Zharan yanked Araujo's cell phone from the hands of his number two man and didn't look like he planned to return it. The chief turned his back and ended their conversation, but nothing looked resolved for Fuentes.
'Looks like our break is done. Follow my lead and be ready to move,' Christian whispered.
Fuentes stalked up the trail. When he passed his prisoners, he yelled to his men.
'Fall in. Move. We're heading out.' And to Christian, he threatened with a finger thrust inches from his face. 'If she slows us down, I will personally drag her by the hair off this ridge. Do you understand me?'
Christian returned his glare, his only reply.
The men scrambled. And he and Raven were hauled to their feet. Fuentes didn't say another word. He looked like a man with something far more urgent on his mind.
Up ahead, a third helicopter occupied the marshy clearing—the end of the line. With rotor blade motionless, the aircraft faced them and sat apart from the other two, its engine long since cooled. One guard in uniform leaned against the craft, then stood at attention as they approached.
Christian let his eyes strafe the treeline, his senses on hyper alert. All the way back, he'd pictured how this might play out. In his hip pocket, he had the new intel of a rift between Zharan and Fuentes. A theory, nothing more. And he needed a diversion. Once he got it, he'd have to move, no hesitation.
He'd given thought to overpowering one of the guards in the jungle and making a run for it through the brush. But it would've only been a matter of time before they got a bullet to the back or been run down by the much younger men in Fuentes's horde.
And even though the clearing had little cover, it had the helicopters, their best means of escape. If they launched a quick assault and took one or two weapons, they might stand a chance to use the choppers for cover in the interim and as a means of escape later. He knew enough about flying one to get them off the ground.
Outnumbered as they were, they'd have to hit hard and fast, taking out command personnel like Zharan and Fuentes first. Next, they'd have to target key weapons experts and neutralize any with long range capability or grenade launchers. A nearly impossible feat since they didn't know these men or have a clear inventory of their firearms.
Scenarios played through his head, but the reality of these men returning fire interfered with the outcome. Christian needed something to tip the scales in his favor. That's what was on his mind when the lone guard patrolling the aircraft turned to face them. And the sneer of Captain Luis Duarte stopped him dead in his tracks. Hell, the man stared right at him.
'Ah, shit!' Christian muttered. 'This day just keeps getting better.'
All hope drained with the same sickening effects of rapid blood loss.
CHAPTER 25
'Good afternoon, Chief Zharan.' Duarte moved away from the aircraft. Dressed in fatigues, he looked like one of the men. Surprisingly, he was alone. 'I've been listening to the chatter on your radio frequency. You've had an excellent day, it would appear. But all good things come to an end, I'm afraid.'
For a second, the chief flinched his surprise at seeing Duarte, but he recovered quickly. 'What are you talking about?' Zharan stepped forward and faced the captain. 'You're a wanted man, Duarte. What are you doing here?' The man spoke with all the casualness of meeting an acquaintance at a cocktail party.
'Ah, the best defense is a good offense, is that it?' The captain's smile broadened to a grin. 'Funny. I feel the same way.'
Fuentes got the reference and understood the implications. He searched the thick vegetation of the jungle, craning his neck to get a better view. His face tightened. His nerves wired. He gripped his weapon and pulled it from his holster, leaving it by his side.
Christian exchanged a quick glance at Raven, his father, and Araujo. They stood ready.
Duarte continued, 'Detective Eduardo Silva sends his regrets, but he was unable to make it. If he survives, he might be willing to share what he knows for immunity. Who's to say?'
'Even a man as loyal as Detective Silva would say anything under torture. You have nothing admissible in a court of law.' The chief opened his mouth to go on, but Duarte raised a finger.
'Perhaps, but before you insult my intelligence again, I would like to share the reason I'm standing here in this clearing with you and not taking cover in the trees like the rest of my team.'
Zharan's men suddenly realized their vulnerability, standing in the open. They fidgeted and started to talk. The chief raised a hand, but that didn't stop the commotion. He was losing control.
'Say it, Luis. No more melodrama,' Zharan demanded.
'I have snipers positioned in the trees. Once you left the jungle, they closed the gap and now have you completely surrounded. They've been given their orders whether I'm alive or not, but I had to look you in the eye to deliver the news. An indulgence I couldn't resist.'
Zharan shrugged and held out both hands in question. 'What's this all about, Captain Duarte? Revenge?' The man had the audacity to laugh. The sound of it was as abrasive as nails on a chalkboard. 'Charges can be dropped. I can restore your good name with the stroke of my pen. And if you killed that Asian woman, you won't hear any complaints from me. The bitch had it coming—if not for this, then something else. What do you want? Name your price.'
At the mention of Jasmine, his father stepped forward with venom in his eyes, but Christian and Raven held him back.
'Now's not the time. Be patient. We still need a diversion.' Christian kept his voice low. He dared to hope he'd been wrong about Duarte, but the jury was still out. This could be nothing more than a falling out among thieves.
Instead of responding to the chief's question, Captain Duarte did a strange thing. Christian watched as the man stepped toward the helicopter closest to him and opened the cargo bay door. He stood back from the aircraft and beckoned with a wave of his fingers.
All eyes were on the shadowy cargo hold of the chopper. The fuselage rocked with a faint motion. Jasmine Lee slid from a seat in the dark and leapt to the ground with all the grace of a cunning feline on the prowl.
