by Amy McKinley
His legs straight and waist slightly bent, he tucked his chin and readied himself for the violent jolt the moment his chute opened and caught air. With steerable equipment, they would land with pinpoint accuracy where they’d mapped their rescue mission from airborne to ground attack.
After the initial shock from the chute opening, Jack glanced above him for a visibility check. They’d planned to land close to the enemy camp but about a mile away and along a bank, as the area was dense with trees. The only opening near the river, where they’d chosen, would be difficult to say the least. The ground neared. Jack would touch down first, cut loose, then move aside for Trev, who was directly in line after him.
So far, all was good and the jump was almost relaxing. If things went as planned, they would be able to slip into the camp and grab Henry, Hannah, and the guard with little collateral damage.
Pop, pop, pop. The sound of gunfire shattered the air.
They’d been spotted.
Adrenaline pumped through Jack’s body, annihilating his former sense of assurance that things would go off without too much of a hitch.
His body tense, he scanned the ground for the source of attack. The landing site sped up, and he prepared for impact, forced to abandon a thorough sweep for the shooter.
His legs absorbed the impact, and he rolled, detaching himself from the lines as soon as he gained his feet. Trev would be right behind him, then Liam, Connor, Matt, and finally Chris.
Evenly spaced, they’d converge a half mile from where they’d landed then initiate the rest of their plan. Jack’s pack slammed into his back with a heavy thump, and he immediately grabbed the strap around his waist and tightened it. He retrieved the machete from a holster on the side of his thigh then sliced through the vegetation, creating a path his men would follow. It didn’t take long to meet at their rendezvous point. He stopped, swept the area for hostiles, then turned to see who approached.
In short order, everyone made it to the clearing—all except Chris. They checked their packs, readied weapons, and made sure grenades were at hand should they need them.
“Did you see where the gunshots came from?” Connor addressed the group in a wary whisper.
“No, but it seems as if someone was expecting us.” Jack glanced at his watch.
Trev frowned. “Where the fuck is Chris?”
“Hell if I know. We’ll give him two more minutes, then we need to head out. He’ll meet up with us when he can.”
“Right.” Liam pressed the small communication device into his ear as the rest of them did. “If there’s a problem, he’ll check in. We need to stay on schedule.”
They waited in tense silence as the full two minutes passed. “That’s it. We head out now. Grab the package and return to the extraction point.” Fuck. A sense of unease settled under Jack’s skin.
Chapter 6
Russia
Hannah—9 years old
The grass tickled my cheek as I turned my head. I’d rolled off the edge of the blanket and out of range of my dad’s tickling fingers. Elsa’s shrieks were loud in my ears as Mom continued to tickle her sides.
Dad cleared his throat. “All right, you two. Get up before you’re covered in dirt.” He winked. “You can jump in a puddle of mud after we eat.”
Mom sucked in a breath, her jaw hanging open. “Ivan! Don’t encourage them.”
He chuckled as he pulled her to his side. “You know they’ll do it anyway, Arina.” He brushed a kiss along her cheek, and Elsa and I wrinkled our noses. Mom ran her fingers through his dark hair.
“Gross. Do you guys have to do that here? We’re in a park.” Sitting up, I crossed my arms over my chest and gave them my fiercest frown. “In public.”
Mom smiled. “Let’s get a picture before we eat. Ivan, can you set up the camera?”
He dropped a kiss on her nose and got up with the camera and tripod. I chanced a look at my sister, who twirled a blade of grass between her fingers, not really paying attention. Dad set everything up and ordered us around a little. “Sit this way. Elsa, move closer to your sister.” Then we were rearranged again. Pictures were annoying.
Laughter drew my gaze, and I watched as a few kids played on the playground equipment off in the distance. I couldn’t see their families because a large tree partially blocked my view. Normally, the playground was busier. Dad said it was supposed to rain, so that’s why people must have stayed away. What’s a little rain? I loved to splash in the puddles, particularly when my sister, who was overly concerned with how she looked, was near.
The park was close to our house, and we spent hours playing there. We would make up obstacle courses and challenge each other. Mom would do them with us, and if Dad was off from work on a rare afternoon, he would too. I loved those times the most.
My mom’s arms slipped around me, her blond hair falling around my shoulder and mingling with mine as she gave me a squeeze. It was the exact same shade. I loved it. Dad ran over and sat behind us, putting his long arms around us. Days like those were the best.
The camera snapped the picture, and we all relaxed. Elsa plopped on her stomach and pulled the petals off a flower she’d plucked from the ground.
“Just end on loves me not. No boy ever would.” I laughed as she shrieked, throwing the mangled flower at me. Even though she was older by two years, she was so easy to rile. Besides, I didn’t want some random boy stealing my sister away. We were a team.
“That’s enough, Hannah,” Mom said in her gentle voice, not the one she used when we did gymnastics. She was strict then, not at all like she was when we weren’t practicing to win competitions. Well, that’s not entirely true. She was more of a coach when she instructed us. She was also our biggest cheerleader, no matter what. That’s something we always knew when she was telling us to go through a routine or a new trick again and again and again.
The creak of wood drew my gaze as Dad pulled the food from the picnic basket. The sun was hot, but I didn’t mind. It felt good as it warmed my skin. I started to take off my shoes, but Dad shook his head. With a wink, he pointed to the hill to the right of him. It was steep with wildflowers blooming at the top. “Before we eat, let’s see which one of you girls can run up the hill and get back here first with a purple flower for your mother.”
He loved encouraging us to compete and would join in more often than not. Beating him was cause for major bragging rights. I hoped he would race us later. I planned to win. But against my sister was another story. The competitive nature was fierce in our family.
I laughed as I sprang to my feet at the same time as my sister. It didn’t matter. I would win. I always won.
Chapter 7
Hannah
Present day
Exhaustion crept into Hannah’s cramped limbs. Time had passed with the unwanted company of insects and sweltering heat. Henry was a mess. The environmental discomforts and the heavy presence of soldiers did nothing to ease the stress and tension wearing on his mind and body.
The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Someone watched her intently. She slowly lifted her face and narrowed her eyes, allowing menace to fill them. It was the guard who had first grabbed her by the purse strap. Heavy footfalls were all she heard as he approached. His foul smell hit her as he bent down. Does he ever bathe? He lifted his hand and trailed a dirty finger along her cheek before pinching her chin in a too-tight grasp.
A command was barked out across the camp, and the imbecile cursed as he released his bruising grip. His hand dropped to her thigh, and he squeezed, a promising smirk crossing his face before he rose and made his way over to his leader, who’d called for him.
Tweedledum would be her first target. She tracked him across the camp. He’d taken every opportunity he could to touch her. There were bruises on her body that hadn’t come from the crash. He’d pay, as would the other insurgents who had abused both Henry and her. She was taking inventory. The men’s time would come to an end—they just didn’t know it yet.
Han
nah and Henry had spent a full night and day in the same spot, by the same tree, with the same men leering at them. When able, she had grabbed sleep or tried to meditate to build her strength for what she knew would come. Henry’s complexion took a turn for the worse, taking on gray undertones beneath splotchy redness, and she worried he wouldn’t make it much longer without his heart medication and a cooler environment.
During the day, they’d kept quiet, unwilling to converse in front of the men. Time ticked by in excruciating increments. Soon, there would be a few stolen moments. Their second night in that hellhole was fast approaching.
As darkness fell and more of the soldiers found their beds around the fire, she and Henry were able to talk quietly, as they had the night before.
Beside her, Henry stirred, lifting his head. Their gazes met, and she tried to give him a reassuring smile. With the camp asleep, aside from the few who took up watch, she whispered to him, needing to find out all she could for stage two of her mission.
“I think I may have caught a glimpse of your briefcase.”
Henry jerked and wheezed. “We have to get it back.”
“Aside from letting us get up and go to the bathroom, I don’t think they’ll move us. Where they take us to relieve ourselves is not in the direction where I think I saw it. There will be an opportunity when the team gets here—”
“It must’ve been with the other men who surrounded Steve. They got here first. That has to be why we didn’t see them with the case. Or they had another team arrive when we were knocked out, and they took it then reported the crash.”
“Right,” Hannah reassured him. “So long as it’s here, we’ll get it back.”
“Yes.” He fell silent for a moment. “At least the earbuds weren’t in there as well. They were in my carry-on. I don’t believe any of that was taken. Did you see?”
“No.” Hannah frowned. “We’ll have to tell the team to send someone to recover that and our laptops. Too much information is in there.”
“Try not to worry, dear. The main thing we need to recover is the briefcase.” Again, he wheezed.
Hannah frowned. “You need to rest, especially since we’ll have to escape through the jungle when they get here.”
“I’m not as young as you. Making it out of here—”
“Stop.” She turned her head, catching and holding his eyes. “You’ll get out. Everything will be fine.”
Henry shook his head, defeat stamped over his features. “No one knows the code to the case. You’re the only one besides myself that knows the sequence of numbers for my office safe. It’s the same, Hannah.” His body shook, and pain flooded his eyes. Seconds passed as he regained composure. “In case I don’t make it… You’ll have to open it in front of the special-ops team lead in Havana. Or if you can’t get there, then when you’re in DC, but only for the CIA, and specifically Rich Stevens. No one else. We just don’t know. But whatever happens, don’t give the code to anyone else.”
“Please don’t worry. None of that will be necessary. You’ll be the one to get possession of the case.” She pressed her lips together to keep from babbling. “Just rest. It’ll be over soon.”
His flushed brow shone with perspiration in the flickering firelight. “That weapon… it’s more precise than what was used against our men. Stronger,” he mused under his breath, seemingly fixated and unable to let go of their prior conversation. “Have you heard any of our captors mention the case or seen anyone leave with it?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m guessing they have it stashed away to use as leverage for more money.” A very faint pop of gunfire in the distance pricked at her consciousness, and she swept her gaze over the men once more. Some stirred, most slept, but a few roused from the noise, which in turn woke others. It was barely audible, but for those trained in the art of war, it was an alarm that screamed through a dozing mind and body with a tidal wave of adrenaline in its wake.
It was clear that the guerrillas thought something was wrong. Their reactions varied from stumbling from their bedrolls to leaping up, guns in hand, responding with awareness to the pending danger. Alert, they moved around, ready for attack. Still, they were quiet, and Henry’s exhaustion seemed to be lulling him into complacency—he didn’t notice the commotion.
“With that weapon…” He never finished. His eyes glazed over, lost in his dire thoughts.
“Everything will be fine. We’re going to be rescued.” The strain from their situation leached Henry of his ruddy color and sent a pang of regret through her. “Please stop worrying. I’m sure it will be recovered when the team arrives. It shouldn’t be too much longer.”
The hairs on the back of Hannah’s neck stood up. She watched the cautious men who checked the perimeter, the partially awake, and the sleeping bodies around them. Without turning her head, she scrutinized the perimeter too, searching for something she instinctively felt but didn’t hear.
They’re here. Time is running out. She analyzed the bodies before her to see who carried a grenade as she leaned as close to Henry as their restraints would allow. “I wonder if the weapon is the real reason why they captured us.”
“Oh, my dear, that falling into enemy hands would be very bad for us indeed. The weapon is capable of—”
Their ropes pulled taut, and her shoulders tensed, impressed by the team’s stealth. Her back arched, and pain sliced through her arms from the tugs on their restraints. She and Henry kept quiet as the sawing motion strained their aching limbs. Time slowed with each give of their binds.
Henry shifted as his arms were freed, and a twig snapped beneath him. A ripple went through the camp. Their captors leapt to attack.
A bloodbath would ensue, and she relished the thought of avenging her family’s death.
Chapter 8
Jack
Present day
On the edge of the campsite, Jack and his team blended with the leafy vegetation. Their plans would have to change—they were being forced to adapt. An edgy unease mixed with his fast-pumping blood. Already, the mission was fucked. Gunshots had been fired. Chris wasn’t with them because he’d made them agree to a stupid pact to leave any who were not Henry behind, which Rich had mandated. But it wasn’t their way.
Jack scanned the area to formulate a revised plan of action. The campfire’s flickering light illuminated the men within the clearing. And Hannah. Fury painted his vision red at the sight of her tied to the tree. Dammit.
Whether they were together or not, she was still his.
Holding position, he calculated the best way to infiltrate. The enemy checked the perimeter and readied for an attack. Somehow, they had been alerted to imminent danger. Not somehow, someone. There had been rogue gunshots in the forest.
Chris better be safe.
Jack ignored the annoying buzz of insects. Their clothes were military grade and insect repellant but didn’t protect exposed skin. Humidity saturated the air. The ground was slick from a recent rain and the constant dampness of the jungle.
Even though it was dark, he knew the Darien Gap was beautiful… and deadly. Wildlife, insurgents, drug trafficking, and kidnapping were commonplace.
Sweat trickled down his back, and the scent of unwashed bodies infiltrated his nose as he crept closer to the camp. Hushed voices broke the silence. Their in-and-out grab-and-go plan had been shot to hell. The insurgents were ready for a rescue attempt.
Even so, they weren’t ready for his team.
With hand signals, Jack motioned where he wanted his team to strike. They had to get the security guard and Hannah, check for the briefcase, then follow their mission’s objective to get Henry out. He signaled for Connor and Matt to secure the guard and for Trev to help him with Henry and Hannah. His feelings for Hannah urged him to make her his top priority. Lastly, he gestured for Liam to help with distraction and search for the weapon—their other main objective.
Without meaning to, he found her again. Even at such a disadvantage, the tilt of her chin and compre
ssed lips were a solid fuck you to her captives. His body was strung tightly with the desperation to do damage to all that’d scared or marred her in any way.
Until they split to execute their directives, they neared as one. In silence, Jack slipped behind a perimeter guard then clamped his hand over the man’s mouth as his knife slashed across his carotid artery. In semi-slow-motion, he lowered the body that bled out onto the jungle floor with as much stealth as he could. With eyes on his target, he positioned himself in the long shadow cast by a thick tree then approached.
In a fast sprint, the distance to Hannah melted away, and he crouched behind her and Henry and set to work on the rope that bound them to the tree. Their stealth entry didn’t last long.
Shouting erupted, and the relative silence of the night exploded with a barrage of gunshots, grunts, and cries of dying men. The pop of bullets was loud and jarring. Time was running out. Jack cursed under his breath as he sliced through the heavy rope, freeing Henry and Hannah. With bullets flying, he reacted. Henry and Hannah needed a barrier.
“Trev! Cover!” Jack shouted, and with a wave of his hand showed his teammate where he needed him. Trev shifted position. A passing soldier was plucked from close proximity, shot, and used as a shield. With Trev’s back to them and the dead man offering some protection, he offered a barrier while Jack worked on a safe retrieval.
When he faced Henry, Jack’s concern went up a few notches. The older man panted, and his skin tone was off. Bullets hit Jack’s bulletproof vest with strong thuds, and he lurched forward before he could catch himself.