Rush, ever silent, doubled back to lay false markers, sending Bora’s men in circles. Meanwhile, Tobias charted their progress, always searching for high ground to spot any pursuers.
Early in the chase, they heard Bora’s men crashing through the jungle, machetes hacking at the undergrowth. The four men froze, hearts pounding, as shouts grew louder.
Jalen signaled with a subtle snap of his fingers to put the stealth netting over themselves, and they melted into a stand of bamboo, breathless, unseen as their enemies thundered past. It was their first narrow escape, but not their last.
The jungle itself became both adversary and ally. Torrential rains turned paths into rivers, and venomous snakes slithered unseen among the leaves. A fallen log concealed a nest of fire ants that sent Rush stumbling, cursing, as he fought the burning pain. Tobias quickly applied a cream from his first-aid kit, keeping them moving despite the agony. Every obstacle tested their resourcefulness and resolve.
They slept in shifts, nerves raw, dreaming of the home that seemed impossibly far. The jungle’s chorus was broken by distant shouts and the crackle of radio static. Silence was survival. When their comms finally pinged, they nearly cried with relief.
“Where are you guys? Your trackers are going in and out and I’m having a hard time following.”
“We know,” said Rush. “Someone saw us in that cantina and gave us away. We’re headed back around to get to our vehicles and meet the chopper.”
“Just make it to the clearing six clicks west of where you are now, or where I think you are. We’ll get you there.”
Jalen’s jaw clenched as he pushed through pain, refusing to show weakness. He was cut up from the jungle, tired, and was pretty sure he’d bruised his hip somewhere along the way.
JT limped, a twisted ankle slowing his pace, but he pressed on with gritted teeth. Even Rush, usually unflappable, began to mumble prayers under his breath. Tobias kept spirits alive, telling stories of their past as they stumbled onward, each step a battle against despair.
The group’s fighting skills proved critical. Twice, Bora’s scouts blundered into their path, and each time the four men struck with silent ferocity. JT disarmed a knife-wielding foe in a flash, while Rush brought down a pursuer with a perfectly aimed silenced bullet. Jalen and Tobias orchestrated each defense, using distraction and stealth to keep the others safe.
Close calls haunted their journey. Once, Bora himself appeared through a curtain of vines, eyes gleaming with predatory focus. The men held their breath as he studied footprints in the mud, then signaled his men forward. Only a well-timed burst of thunder and a distraction from a startled capybara allowed the group to slip away unseen, hearts racing with adrenaline.
Teamwork became their lifeline. Jalen and Tobias took turns scouting, their trust in one another absolute. Every decision was unanimous, every risk calculated. In the crucible of pursuit, their bonds forged unbreakable strength.
Resourcefulness kept them alive. They fashioned crude traps from vines and sharpened sticks, slowing down Bora’s band. Water was gathered from leaves at dawn, and wild berries supplemented their dwindling rations. Tobias’s knowledge of jungle plants spared them from poisonous fruit and guided them to hidden springs, each discovery a small victory.
The weather turned, unleashing a deluge that blurred the world into gray. Mudslides threatened to sweep them away, and visibility dropped to mere feet.
As dawn broke, the four men collapsed on the far side of the river, gasping for breath, battered but alive. Bora’s shouts echoed faintly from behind, but the border was crossed—the chase over, for now.
“I have to be honest, I don’t want to do that shit again but that was fucking amazing,” grinned Rush.
“Yeah,” nodded Tobias, “but anyone else bothered by the number of men he had with him and how fucking well they were trained?”
“I did notice that,” said JT. “I think he’s got ex-Special Forces guys working with him or he’s spent a lot of time training jungle rats.”
They all heard the soft rush of the blades of the Osprey and turned, running toward the clearing. Asleep before it left the ground, they were anxious to be home, shower, eat, and tell the team the news.
When they came again, they were going to need a lot more men.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“What the fuck happened out there?” growled Ham.
“He had two dozen, maybe three dozen men, Ham. Well trained. We weren’t having a fucking picnic out there. That’s the first time in my history here that anyone has come close to us,” said Rush.
“I agree,” said Tobias. “Either he’s been secretly training Bolivians and drug dealers down there, or he’s recruited ex-teams guys.”
“That’s all we fucking need,” muttered Gator. “But it also might explain how he’s gotten so much done. What about Rita Ruvienne? What was she like?”
“She appeared calm, but a hint of fear to her. She didn’t want to leave because she said it would be seen as cowardice. She said the people in the area were hiding her and not to worry because they were ‘her people’. I don’t know what that means but she was determined to leave with some little kid wielding an old rifle,” said JT.
“Are you guys feeling okay?” asked Jak.
“We were actually feeling great until you guys bit our heads off,” smirked Rush.
“We didn’t mean to do that,” said Ham. “We were worried for you.”
