I studied the tent that the guards threw him into. It appeared to be off limits except for one soldier that would step inside every thirty minutes, step back out a moment later, and continue their rounds. By the time the sun had set, I had seen no one else come or go from that tent. Only the one solitary grunt who checked in approximately every half hour.
During that time, I made more mental notes on the rest of General Bardales' base so I would be prepared when night fell and I made my move. He had approximately thirty soldiers at his command. Most were simple grunts, but there were at least two officers coordinating various projects in the camp. I had seen Bardales once in the several hours I watched. He was sequestered in one of the large central tents, adjacent to the one that I knew held Dr. Blatt.
There was a latrine dug out along the perimeter of one side, near the back of the encampment. The men who were erecting the two tents that I had seen when I first climbed over the top of the hill had long since finished. Dozens of plain wooden crates had been shifted into those tents from the stacks that littered the entire camp.
Once that task was done, I never saw another soldier enter the tents, except the one roving sentry who seemed to poke his head into each tent as he encountered them along his patrol path. He never deviated from this path, and I had his pattern down cold within a couple cycles.
I assumed that half of the tents were set aside for storage, as I saw no soldiers coming or going from them. But storage for what? I did not know. The other half of the tents in the camp received the occasional visitor beyond the sentry. Troops would come and go from them often enough that they had to be the camp's barracks. All of the sleeping tents were clustered a short distance from the latrine, buffering it from Bardales's tent, Blatt's tent, and the third large tent nestled near the communications antenna.
What purpose this last tent served, I couldn't be sure. It had regular traffic from both the grunts and the officers, and they would easily spot us leaving Blatt's tent. We'd have to be extra cautious.
The jungle had turned from shades of green and orange to purple and blue as the sun slipped beyond the horizon. When it was fully dark, I dusted the leaves and forest debris off of myself. It was time to rescue Miles Blatt, and throw a wrench in Bardales plans. I had yet to see Jaye, but I was hoping she was being held with Blatt. If I could get all three of us out of here, I would consider that a win. Screw Adrian Pruitt and his money. I'd deal with him when I didn't have a tyrannical Cuban general after me
◆◆◆
I entered Bardales' camp between the latrine and the supply tents. Moving swiftly from tent to tent was easy enough. There were few direct sight lines from outside the cluster, and with each tent being over six feet tall, I didn't have to worry about anyone seeing me sneak through this part of the camp.
Even to a civilian like myself, the layout reeked of poor military planning and execution. Perhaps the general wasn't as military oriented as I had originally suspected. The overall sloppiness of the camp's layout smacked more of a career politician than a soldier.
Added to the poor layout, the camp had gone nearly completely dark, even before the sun had fully set. The jungle's thick trees cast deep shadows over the complex. Yet, even now, in full darkness, there were only a few lanterns scattered throughout the camp, most of them near the barracks, and a handful of men moving about by flashlight. Every few minutes a flash of lighting from some dark cloud in the distance would light up the camp for a split second.
A nearly imperceptible breath of wind carried laughter from the barracks of the camp. The soldiers gathered there when the sun went down. With that laughter came the mouthwatering aroma of cooking food, and my stomach grumbled and twisted in protest. I made a mental note to steal some food if I got the chance.
A set of crates sat stacked four high between the last two supply tents. Putting my back to the crates, I took a quick glance out into the open circle that separated the smaller tents from the larger central ones. Thirty feet away there was a soldier walking, his eyes fixed on the ground and heading directly down the path. Quickly, I ducked back behind the crates and sunk down behind them, curling my legs up so that I wouldn't be seen, and hoped he would walk past.
This wasn't the sentry that I been watching all afternoon. That soldier had never once deviated from his patrol. It had to be someone else, a soldier on some errand perhaps. I would have to let him pass before I could continue.
I could hear the crunch of the man's boots as he approached. His footsteps grew louder with each step, and I made sure to remain perfectly still. The man passed close enough to me I could have reached out and touched him if not for the crates hiding me.
Craning my neck to peer around the wooden boxes, I watched him for a few more seconds as he walked past and then turned towards the communications tower in the center of camp.
"What are you up to?" I mouthed to myself, remaining
