Page 81 of Fear No Evil

Holding up his bloody fingers, the Venezuelan approached close enough for David to see what looked like a pill doled out by modern doctors. “What is it?”

Vargas’s yellow teeth appeared in an evil smile. “A tracking device. With this, we can trick whoever comes for her and kill them all.”

The words flooded David with horror.Worse and worse.

Gallo clapped him on the back. “So, you were right, David. She is a spy.”

Did that change anything? David had left his studies at La Universidad Nacional de Colombia to fight on behalf of the indigenous poor, believing the FARC represented his people. From what he’d seen so far, that wasn’t always the case.

“If she is a spy,” he reasoned carefully, “then she is even more valuable. She can’t be left bleeding like this. Take her down, and I will tend her wounds‍—as Rojas commands,” he added. How long before his lie was discovered, before he himself was punished for his deception?

Gallo scowled, muttering something David was happy not to hear. It was clear these men had planned to inflict more punishment on the woman.

Themondothrust a knife at him. “Here. You cut her down. She’s your problem now. Tomorrow, we take her toArribato join our other hostages.”

Accepting the knife, David digested this dismaying news. He’d only been toArribaand to the radio station once, prompted by curiosity to see how far Padre Josué had to walk beyond the waterfall to reach his destination. The Americans were gone from there, but the three JUNGLA hostages whom the UN leader had expected to be released, likely still remained there, starving and sickening. How would David keep Madeleine from being chained there alongside them? He didn’t have that kind of influence.

One moment at a timesaid a voice in his head. For now, David’s priority was to comfort the woman whose misery he had thoughtlessly instigated.

Shrouded in the dark of night, Jake sat with his back to the same tree, unable to close his eyes even for a second without being tormented by visions of what Lena had to be suffering.

He had prayed for her protection until his chest felt like it was turned inside out. Keeping his ears pricked, he listened for the distinctive flutter of the MH-6M Little Bird light assault helicopter likely coming to support him, but all he could hear was the sonata of nocturnal insects and, once, in the distance, the distinctive roar of a jaguar. Was it the same one who’d looked him in the eye?

With every beat of his heart, Jake willed his teammates’ arrival. What was taking them so long?

Worry kept his muscles locked and aching. After staring so long into the night sky hunting for the Little Bird’s shape against the charcoal clouds, his eyes ached. Just when despair was about to claim him, a flurry erupted overhead. Relief broke over him like a sunrise, and he jumped to his feet, only to stumble as his battered soles protested.

The silhouette of the blacked-out mini helicopter, with special operators perched on its running boards, descended from the sky and nestled almost silently onto the same field that had hidden the Venezuelan Army hours earlier.

With a fervent word of thanksgiving, Jake hobbled toward the helo as his teammates, wearing helmets with their night-vision goggles lowered to look for him, slipped off the running boards and started in his direction. Behind them, the helo lifted off again, leaving to await further orders.

As the first man approached him, he raised his NVGs, revealing bright-blue eyes and a face covered in black greasepaint. “Sir, you hurt?” Harm grabbed Jake’s arm, looking him up and down.

“No, but I lost my boots.”

“Can you walk?”

“Barely.”

“This way.” Harm forced him into a trot that sent shards of pain up his legs.

In the cover of the trees, well away from the cinder-block building, the SEALs all came together‍—Harm, Lobo, Bambino, and Zen.

As they crouched in a tight circle, Lobo took charge. “Fill us in, Jake.”

“The FARC have Lena.” Fear turned his voice to sandpaper. “One of the Venezuelans came across our path and recognizedher from the warehouse in Maiquetía”‍—he nodded toward Bambino and Harm‍—“where we extracted her a couple of years back. But the FARC were already suspicious. They had us walk across a rope bridge that came apart while I was still crossing it. I lost my boots and the sat phone in the river, but at least they think I’m neutralized. We need to get to Lena before they kill her, too.”

Lobo dropped his gaze to regard the tattered remnants of Jake’s booties. “Bambino, take a look at his feet.”

As the soft blue beam of the medic’s penlight shone in the inky darkness, Jake sank onto the ground to show his soles to the medic. “I’m fine. All I need is boots.”

Given the sudden silence, Lobo hadn’t considered that possibility. Bambino snapped open the kit he carried, then set about cleansing Jake’s lacerated soles. It was all Jake could do not to betray his discomfort as Bambino poured a burning liquid over his soles.

Lobo scowled at Jake’s feet. “You need to be medevacked.”

“No.” Jake had known those words were coming. “I’m Lena’s partner, and I’m not leaving her here. Just get me some new boots and gear, and I’ll be good to go.” Hearing desperation in his voice, he snapped his mouth shut.

“We heard she was shot at.” Harm’s deep voice could not have sounded more gently apologetic. “Maybe dead.”

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