From there, Derek flew them to a secluded clearing just over the Rio Caroni. After collecting their gear and double-checking their weapons and ammo, Jake and the others camouflaged the bird and made the long-ass hike here.
The team was ready. They’d do what they came to do, then make the fifteen-mile trek back to the chopper. If all went as planned, they'd be back in the States before the bodies were ever discovered.
Let’s get this party started.
“Alpha Team, what’s your position?” Jake spoke quietly into the small mic embedded in the earwig each of his teammates wore.
“Good to go, boss,” Trevor whispered back. The guy sounded calm, but Jake knew his friend was more than ready to send these bastards straight to hell.
“We’ve got a bird’s eye view,” Coop answered. Both he and Mac were strategically positioned in the trees to the west of the camp.
“Ready when you are, boss,” Derek whispered.
As always, Grant’s deep, emotionless response was last. “Eyes out, scanning for tangos.”
The rhetoric was one they’d spoken a hundred times. It had become as automatic as their movements. Each member was in position, their adrenaline pumping as they waited for the order to strike.
Jake surveyed the campsite through his binoculars. As far as places like these went, this one was pretty impressive.
There were ten, semi-permanent tents. At the far eastern edge, stood two cinder block structures like the campground bathrooms he remembered using as a kid.
Behind those, Jake could see the top blades, nose, and tail of a black, expensive-as-hell helicopter. The hairs on the back of his head stood on end. A chopper like that in a place like this most likely meant their main target was here.
The Cetro Cartel was based out of South Africa. The group had several smaller camps like this one hidden in various places around the world. They were well-known on the island of Madagascar, and were reportedly behind several killings and kidnappings related to their booming trafficking businesses.
While cannabis was the drug most frequently traded in that country, the appearance of harder drugs, such as cocaine and heroin, had greatly increased in recent years. From what Jake and the others had learned, Madagascar was now a major hub for trafficking these drugs to several other parts of the world, making it the perfect place for the cartel to set up shop.
Their leader, Javier Cetro, was as ruthless as they came. His goal was to become the world leader in the trafficking trifecta: drugs, weapons, and humans. Unfortunately, the arrogant bastard was well on his way.
The guy was also too smart to stick around the scene of the crime. He’d know that killing a group of Americans would bring some serious heat down on him, which explained why Jake and his team were now sweating their asses off in a fucking Venezuelan jungle instead of Madagascar, where this had all started.
Jake continued to watch the inactivity of the camp. He noticed no movement. Heard no voices. An uneasy tingling ran down his spine.
Cetro and his crew were known for their loud and crude behavior. They attacked with no concern about being seen or heard. According to Derek, they partied even louder.
There had been reports of recent cartel activity in the area, so the assholes should be out celebrating. Instead, the place was like a fucking ghost town.
Something’s off. Jake was about to relay his concern to the team when he heard Coop’s voice in his ear.
“Boss, we’ve got movement. Your ten o’clock. Female running from the far west tent, heading toward the trees. She’s in a dress and...damn, is she barefoot?”
Jake’s chest tightened. There was only one plausible reason a woman would be running away from Cetro’s tents in that condition. Coop had most likely just witnessed one of Cetro’s sex trafficking victims trying to escape. Shit.
This wasn’t supposed to be a rescue mission, but no way would anyone on his team leave an innocent woman to fend for herself against these bastards.
Jake turned his attention to the location Coop gave him and adjusted the settings on his binoculars. When he brought the woman’s blurry image into focus, breathing became damn near impossible.
“Jake, are you seeing this?” Trevor asked, obviously seeing the woman, too. “God, I hate even saying it, but she sure looks an awful lot like—”
“Olivia,” Jake whispered more to himself than Trevor.
The jungle spun around him. He became dizzy. Disoriented. He shook his head to clear it because, no way was it possible.
Olivia was dead and she wasn’t coming back. For weeks, Jake had been trying like hell to accept that fact, and yet—
“All eyes on the camp,” he ordered quickly.
With his team watching for any threats, Jake kept his own eyes glued to the woman. Almost to the tree line now, she turned to look over her shoulder, presumably checking for anyone who might be following her. He continued to watch, never letting her out of his sight.
She turned back towards the trees. When she did, her long, dark hair flew over her shoulder, giving Jake his first clear view of her face. His heart slammed against his ribs with the force of a two-by-four. It’s her! Jesus, it’s her!
“Hold positions!” Jake choked out the words, sounding anything but calm. He shot up from the crouch he’d been in. “I’m going after Li...the woman.”
Until he had her in his arms, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—believe what he'd seen.
“Cover us both. Any sign of the targets, fire at will.” No matter who she was, if Cetro or his men got their hands on her again, she’d be dead.
Jake started running through the trees toward her. Toward...How the fuck is this even possible?
“Talk to me, Jake. Is it really her?”
Trevor’s question was filled with hope, and damn if he didn’t feel it, too. Maybe this was why he’d been having such a hard time accepting Olivia’s death.
Jake had told himself she was gone. When the doubts
