“We sit here. I’m not going up against Trak in the dark. He might be old but that bastard is fucking scary as shit,” said Brooks.
It was ten long minutes of waiting to see if all was well, when the face of Oscar came through the brush, licking his lips and smacking. Both men cringed and Trak walked in as well.
“Why are you sitting?” he asked. “We’re done.” He walked past the two men and continued back along the path they’d come. Fitch stood, chuckling at Brooks.
“You heard the man. We’re done.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Mike and Abe took the girl back to town. If they can, they’ll catch up with us but I told them to stay put and keep an eye on things there,” said Ham.
“How is the girl?” asked Brooks.
“Beaten, raped, cut, abused in every way imaginable. But she survived. She wouldn’t have lasted much longer but she did make it and that says a lot about who she is. The problem now is that if they find out that she survived, they’ll know we’re out here. We have to move now.”
“Well, it’s 0320. Our usual,” smirked Brooks.
Setting out of camp, they broke off into their usual formations and prepared for war. These men wouldn’t give in easily but with any luck, Bora might be in their camp and solve all their issues.
It was a pipe dream. Bora couldn’t be seen anywhere and Oscar and the two anacondas didn’t sense him there either. Of course, Trak couldn’t explain how the jaguar and snakes were able to identify the man but they were certain it had to do with smell.
What they were able to distinguish was their leader. Tido Marquez stood outside the largest tent, stretching and scratching his belly as he moved toward the jungle to relieve himself.
They were obviously confident and comfortable with their location, not expecting anyone to bother them. With stealth ability, Conor and U-Jin slipped in behind him, holding a knife to his throat.
“You speak, you die,” said Conor. They dragged him toward the others, although in fairness he didn’t fight them too much. That alone was concerning to them.
“One word and you’ll be dead,” said Ham.
“You’re going to kill me anyway,” smiled the man. “Is this about the girls?”
“It’s about many things,” said Ham. “Where is Bora?”
At the mention of his name the man stiffened, suddenly uncooperative and looking for ways to run. Oscar growled at him, the snakes circling his feet.
“Wh-who are you?”
“That doesn’t matter. Where is he?” asked Brooks.
“He is not here. If he were, you’d be dead.”
“I doubt that,” said Gator towering over the man. They heard someone in camp calling for the man. “One last chance before I kill every man in that camp. Where is Bora?”
He grinned up at the giant, knowing it was probably the last thing he would utter on this earth.
“Where you find her, you will find him.”
Without a moment of remorse, the throat of Marquez was slit and he was left on the jungle floor. As the men moved closer to camp, it was like picking off ducks in a barrel. They were confident. Pants down, still asleep and very few were armed with more than a machete.
“What do we do with the bodies?” asked Brooks staring at the carnage.
“Oscar says leave them for the jungle. They’ll take care of it,” said Trak walking further into the thick, lush green. It started to rain and they all knew that today would be another long, difficult day. But it was one they had to do.
“We need to find Rita,” said Brooks to Ham. “He said where we find her, we will find him. He’s going after her.”
“I know,” said Ham, “but we can’t do anything without handling the Ángeles. We do that first and then we get to Margarita. If she’s right, these are her people and they will be taking care of her.”
Around mid-day they had to stop and take shelter from the unrelenting rain. Walking was becoming increasingly difficult and the men were tired. Oscar guided them to a massive rocky overhang, where he lay at Trak’s feet, curled around him like a little kitten.
