When they’d walked through it all five or six times, played out every possible outcome and scenario in their minds. Although they knew that the men below them in the valley were trained in guerilla style warfare, many would be using the very drugs they sold.
“Gator? Cowboy? Look at the dude standing around the fire in front of the main tent. Look familiar?” asked Ham.
“Is it Bora?” asked Brooks.
“No,” frowned Gator. “Justin Carroll.”
“Who is that?” asked Mitchell.
“A former Army Ranger instructor. Beside him is a former MARSOC instructor, Billy Yellin. Those fuckers are training the enemy,” said Cowboy.
“They are. Which makes them the enemy,” said Ham. “Put the drones in the air. We end this part of our little saga.”
The men stood back watching as the drone experts lifted the birds and sent them silently on their way. The usual low whirring sound that a drone would make was masked by the stealth technology of G.R.I.P. Each drone carried enough explosives to level an average home.
Below them were no homes. Only tents, drugs, and men intent on ill-will. Something they couldn’t tolerate.
“Drones ready?” asked Cowboy. The reply came in unison.
“Roger that. Drones ready.”
“Deploy drones,” he said.
They watched from behind the trees as the explosives were dropped in unison. Men looked up, a fraction of second before the unusual package hit the earth, shattering the calm of the jungle.
Birds screeched and howled, animals fled from the space, although most had been warned by Oscar and his slithery friends. Trees, foliage, plants, and grass scattered, leaving nothing in their place.
When the dust settled, the men slowly made their way down into the valley, stopping to see the mass destruction. Hearing a moan, Brooks and Cowboy turned, weapons ready.
“Fucking asshole,” said Billy.
“I’d say the same about you, Billy,” said Cowboy. “Friends with traffickers and drug dealers? That seems against your code. Our code.”
“Aren’t you sick of them getting it all, Cowboy? Aren’t you tired of making shit money and getting nothing? I am. I was,” he said with his last breath.
It took them several hours to ensure that the men were dead, the drugs gone, and no one had gotten away. But with the explosion, others would know and would certainly tell Bora.
“What now?” asked Brooks. Ham nodded at the younger man.
“Now, we find Bora and Margarita and it sounds like he might be chasing her down. Let’s get to her before he does.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
It would be another half-day before they caught sight of civilization. With so many men, they couldn’t just traipse into town and ask for hotel rooms. They would need to camp at the outskirts and go in a few at a time to scout for Bora.
“Have you spoken to Lennon?” asked Mitchell.
“A few times,” nodded Brooks with a grin. “I’m so proud of what she’s doing and how much she’s helping us. I know it’s hard for her to sit at home and feel helpless.”
“She’s a good one Brooks. I’m very happy that my siblings have found their one.” Brooks stared at Mitchell for a moment, frowning toward him.
“Hey, you’ll find yours,” he said quietly.
“I’m not so sure,” he said shaking his head. “It always feels like the one I want is what someone else wants.”
“Are we talking about that bitch in San Diego?” frowned Brooks.
“She wasn’t a bitch, she just wasn’t truthful with me about what she was looking for.”
