A pang vibrated through Trevor’s chest. It had been over twenty-four hours since the team attacked Cetro’s camp, and they’d lost contact with Jake. Their boss—and Trevor’s best friend—hadn’t shown up this morning as planned.
Trevor had complete faith in Jake’s abilities, but couldn’t seem to rid himself of the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. As tough as Jake was, it wasn’t like him to not follow a plan. And Plan B for this particular operation was to meet back up at this no-tell-motel...this morning.
Trevor looked at his watch. Damn. It was almost three p.m., and there was still no sign of him.
They’d all missed deadlines before. Shit happened, and they’d learned a long time ago to roll with the punches. But Jake had never missed a deadline by this much. None of them had.
So, yeah, Derek having ants in his pants was understandable. As Jake’s friend, Trevor was worried as hell. As his SIC, it was up to him to make decisions for the team in Jake’s absence.
Trevor couldn’t allow his emotions to cloud his judgment. He damn sure couldn’t out them to Homeland, just because he was getting a little nervous.
As hard as it was to put his concern for both his friends aside, Trevor also had to consider the entire team. Not just Jake and Olivia.
“We’re not calling Ryker. Not yet.”
Derek’s entire body became stiff. He was about to lay another card on the table, but stopped, mid-motion. Trevor counted down silently in his head.
Three...two...
Right on cue, Derek threw the cards he’d been holding down onto the table and turned to face him. “Goddamnit, Trevor! Jake’s never been this late. How long are you gonna wait before askin’ for help?”
Trevor swung his legs off the bed and put his feet on the floor, scrunching his sock-covered toes into the dingy, brown carpet. With his elbows resting on his knees, his hands hung loosely between them as he looked Derek straight in the eye.
“I know he's late. I also get that you’re worried. You think I’m not? He’s my best friend, D. Olivia’s my friend. I still think we need to give Jake more time.”
Derek stood abruptly, the cheap chair nearly toppling over behind him. He ran a hand through his almost-too-long hair and began angrily pacing the tiny room.
“How much more fuckin’ time are we gonna give them? He was supposed to be here first thing this morning for Christ’s sake.” Derek stopped at the foot of the bed and rested his hands low on his hips. “What if he’s hurt, Trev? Olivia sure as hell didn’t look like she was in any position to carry his ass outta the jungle. And we know there were at least two of Cetro’s men who took off after them when we split up. If we call Ryker, he could get us some damn eyes in the air within the hour.”
D’s southern accent grew stronger with every syllable. Yeah, the guy was pissed.
Like a good team leader should, Trevor ignored the fear churning in his gut, and responded with his own question.
“And what would you have me tell him? There was a reason Jake didn’t bring Ryker in on this from the get-go. He didn’t want anyone from our government to know we’re here.” Trevor paused, taking a deep breath before adding, “Hell, maybe they took a wrong turn somewhere and are going to walk through that door any minute.” Trevor glanced at the door, wishing those words were true.
Derek looked at him like he’d lost his damn mind, and Grant actually stopped cleaning his gun to look over at Trevor with one eyebrow raised. Okay, fine. It was a dumbass comment. Jake McQueen did not make wrong turns.
Ignoring his teammates’ skepticism, Trevor continued on. “Look, you said yourself that Olivia didn’t look as though she was in that great of shape.” A thought that tore him up, but he had to remain focused. “Hell, before Coop and Mac headed back to the States, Coop told me that he’d gotten a good look at her through his binoculars. Said her dress looked like it was covered in blood. Now, we don’t know if it was hers or someone else’s, but if she is injured”—and God, Trevor prayed she wasn’t—“then, that would almost guarantee a longer travel time for her and Jake. We just don’t know.”
Derek threw his hands into the air, “Which is the exact fuckin’ reason we need to send somebody out there! We don’t know what shape she’s in. Or Jake for that matter.” His chest heaved as his breathing picked up. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and began pacing again. “Goddammit!”
Trevor could see the wheels in D’s mind spinning, and knew he was about to go into full geek mode. He didn’t disappoint.
“Okay, look. Just hear me out. Cetro’s camp was sixteen miles from our bird. My contact has the boat waitin’ three miles downriver from there, so that makes it a nineteen mile hike for Jake and Olivia. The average person walks three point one miles per hour. Now, we know from Coop that Olivia was barefoot when he spotted her, so that’s gonna slow things down for them a bit.”
Derek paused long enough to take a breath and then continued. “And let’s say, for argument’s sake, that she is hurt. I’ll be generous and bring their pace down to half the speed of the average person. So, about a mile and a half per hour. That’s over a ten hour trek to the boat.”
Trevor piped in then. “And you really think Jake would make Olivia hike non-stop through the jungle without resting someplace along the way? She’s not one of us, D.”
Clearly exacerbated, Derek huffed out a breath. “Fine. Add a fuckin’ six hour nap to that
