Page 41 of Maddox

“Because I’m the best at what I do. I will get you home safe and alive. I’m only sorry I couldn’t help your entire team.”

Her eyes darted back and forth before she nodded. “They were good people. I feel so… guilty.”

“You’ll have time to reflect after you’re safe. Let’s get out of here.”

“Okay.” She hesitated as we reached the mouth of the cave.

“What is it?”

“For the first time in my life, I’m terrified.”

I thought about what to say to her or if I should say anything at all. Maybe she just needed to hear the truth.

Our chances of making it out alive were about twenty percent, maybe less. “Good. Maybe that will help keep us alive.”

“Don’t make a single move,” I instructed as we neared the border crossing. “Put the scarf around your head.”

“Why?” Charmaine asked.

“Because I told you to.” I threw her a quick look before glancing into the rearview mirror. There were dozens of soldiers positioned on both sides.

At least she didn’t fight me, grabbing the scarf I’d brought and wrapping it around her long hair. With sunglasses and the simple outfit, she could pass for a local.

“How are we getting through? I don’t have my passport.”

“That’s been taken care of.” I pulled the fake passports into my hand as we rolled ahead by two car lengths. When a soldier noticed our vehicle, I bristled. My weapon was out of sight, the two duffle bags positioned in a false bottom inside the vehicle.We’d experienced no significant issues up to this point. But that didn’t mean anything. At any time, we could be discovered.

It was obvious Alfaro controlled the border police on the El Salvadoran side. From the intel I’d been provided, he’d yet to lay claim to the police in Honduras. If we made it across, we had a chance of getting home alive.

A chance.

Although I still didn’t like the odds.

With a single vehicle in front of us, I braced for the worst. “Do you know any Spanish?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice quavering.

“Good. Just don’t say anything unless you are directly asked a question. Understood?”

I threw her a look and she nodded.

As soon as I rolled forward, a soldier approached the driver’s window. He peered in directly at Charmaine. I immediately shoved the passports in his direction.

“¿Hacia dónde te diriges?” he asked before I had a chance to say anything.

Where are you headed?

“San Pedro.” At least all those years of enduring Spanish classes was paying off.

He flicked his eyes to the passports then back to Charmaine. “¿Para?”

“Una boda.” A wedding. My answer didn’t seem to create any favors. The soldier narrowed his eyes.

“Quiero su respuesta,” he barked.

I want her answer.

Keeping my cool in these situations wasn’t something I was well known for, but a requirement today. I only hoped she had a clue what excuse I’d offered.

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