by Susan Stoker
As much as Beatle hated the delay, he couldn’t deny the information had been useful.
Blade hadn’t taken the news that they wouldn’t immediately be heading out into the jungle to find his sister nearly as well. He’d had to be sedated so he wouldn’t hurt himself any more than he already had. Punching walls wasn’t exactly good for a person.
While Coach and Truck had stayed with Blade at the hotel, Ghost, Beatle, Fletch, and Hollywood had been allowed to listen to the interviews.
They’d been led to a room with a two-way mirror where they could observe. Beatle had wanted to be able to ask questions, but the ambassador had denied access to his daughter to anyone other than the Danish soldiers who had rescued her. And since Astrid refused to be separated from Jaylyn and Kristina, they were all interviewed together.
“What happened?” the soldier in charge of interviewing them had asked bluntly.
It took a while for the girls to tell their story, but eventually they did.
They’d all been in the jungle looking for a new species of ant when the kidnappers came out of nowhere. They threw them into the back of a truck and driven for hours. During that time, apparently, Casey had instructed the girls to stay calm, to believe that they’d be missed and someone would come for them. She’d further told them to take things one day at a time, one minute at a time if needed, and to always find something positive about the situation.
At hearing that, Ghost had murmured, “Smart. Blade must’ve taught her that.”
Beatle silently agreed. He’d had a long talk with his friend, and Blade had recounted how he’d lectured his sister about how to psychologically stay strong in a situation just like the one she’d found herself in.
The kidnapped girls continued to tell their tale, about how they’d been driven into the jungle and had arrived at what they’d thought was a village. It had been dark, so they couldn’t really describe anything about it. That wasn’t exactly necessary, as the Huntsmen had confirmed the girls had been held captive in a village in the middle of the jungle.
The girls went on to explain how Casey had been their leader, keeping them calm, making sure everyone had enough to eat and drink, and generally ensuring their spirits remained high.
After several days of captivity, one of their kidnappers had arrived and said that Casey’s ransom had been paid, and he dragged her away. The girls hadn’t seen her again, and had assumed she was safe, probably back in the United States. It had taken a bit of prodding by the soldier questioning them, but eventually the girls admitted that after Casey had left, they hadn’t done as well. They’d begun to bicker and fight, and they’d been on the verge of seriously turning against one another when the Danish soldiers had arrived.
They looked guilty about that, but had been reassured it was normal. That many times, in stressful situations like they’d been in, relationships broke down and things got tense.
The interviewer asked more questions, but Ghost had heard enough. The four Deltas had left and Ghost had asked permission to enter the jungle, and the camp where Casey had last been seen, to begin the search for her.
Permission had been denied. It was the Costa Rican government’s belief that the professor was dead, and they didn’t want armed soldiers creeping around, possibly shooting innocent people while they went on a futile mission.
It took three more days, but eventually the government had conceded after pressure from the President of the United States, and grudgingly given the Deltas permission for their search-and-rescue mission.
By the time they left the town of San José for the jungle, it had been four days since the other women had been rescued. No one had heard anything about Casey Shea for almost twelve days. She could be anywhere by now, and every Delta knew it. She could have been smuggled into Mexico and into the sex trade.
Or she could’ve been shot as soon as she was separated from the others, her body dumped in the jungle somewhere, to become food for all of the various insects and animals the country was notorious for. The chance of them finding her—alive or dead—was extremely low.
But no one was going to give up. This was Blade’s sister. She was theirs. And she was out there…somewhere.
* * *
Hours later, after being dropped off at the rendezvous point by the chopper on loan from the Costa Rican government, the seven-man Delta team spread out without a word as they made their way through the jungle. Beatle was paired with Blade. As they headed toward the last known location of his sister, Blade talked about her.
In a low voice, he told Beatle how Casey loved Chinese food.
How, when she was little, she was always digging in the dirt behind their house, trying to find a new species of bug.
How she’d refused to go to prom her senior year because there was a documentary that night on television about ants in Central America.
How proud he was of her when she’d gotten her PhD. She’d been working toward her Master’s degree and PhD at the same time, and had recently received her Doctorate. She’d been at the university for years, studying, teaching, and taking classes. She was young to already have her PhD, but from what Beatle understood, she’d worked her ass off doing everything possible to get it done as soon as she could.
Beatle let his friend talk and soaked up every piece of information about Casey he could. After several hours, it was as if he knew Casey as well as her brother did.
They were taking a break when Blade put his hand on Beatle’s shoulder and said urgently, “I heard what Ghost said a couple days ago. The last thing I want is to hurt my relationship with my sister. When we find her, I want you to stay by her side.”
“Blade, I—”
He cut him off. “I don’t want her to suffer negative consequences because I’m here. It’ll kill me, but I’m going to do my best to stay in the background on this.”
“Don’t you think that’ll hurt her more?” Beatle asked. “I mean, seeing you, her brother, and not having you comfort her?”
Blade shook his head. “No. I mean, I’ll be there for her, but I don’t want the sight of me to bring back bad memories. I’ll take point on our return or something. Please, Beatle.”
Beatle looked at his friend and teammate. They’d been trained to be one hundred percent honest in all things with each other. Their lives depended on it. “I’m attracted to her,” he confessed. “I don’t know what it is, but the second I saw that picture you showed us, I wanted to get to know her better. And with you talking about her all afternoon…” His voice trailed off. It sounded insane, but it was what it was.
Blade eyed him for a long moment then nodded. “Good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah. Look…I have no problem with her hooking up with you. I know some men have some sort of dumbass bro code where they think it’s not cool to date their friends’ sisters, but not me. I’d get down on my knees and thank my lucky stars if Casey ended up with you. I guess you’re really the only single one left on our team, other than me. We all know Truck is hung up on Mary, so he doesn’t count. I know you, Beatle. I know all your good and bad points. If you and my sister fell in love, I’d get to see her more. I’d know she was protected. But, you know what the odds of that happening are…right? She’s been out here for a long time…she might not be the sister I remember. She might resent me for not finding her earlier. She might’ve been raped. I just…”
It was Beatle’s turn to put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “If she’s anything like you, she’ll get through this. She will.”
Blade closed his eyes, but nodded. Then he took a deep breath. “She’s out here,” he whispered. “I don’t know how I know it, but I do. I know what the odds are of her being alive, but I don’t give a shit. She’s waiting on us to find her.”
Beatle nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
Without another word, the two men silently moved forward with the rest of their team. The only evidence that they’d been there were two butterflies who we
re startled off a branch and lifted into the dense, humid air.
* * *
Ten hours later, the team lay on their bellies in the Costa Rican jungle. Their fingers were on the trigger guards of their rifles as their gazes roamed the deserted camp in front of them.
They’d reached the coordinates where the Huntsmen Corps had rescued the college students. They’d spread out and surrounded what was left of the hideout.
“Ghost?” Hollywood asked almost silently.
They were all wearing earpieces and could communicate with each other up to a couple miles apart.
“Nobody moves,” Ghost ordered. “This could be a trap.”
“It’s deserted,” Fletch insisted.
“Or maybe they’re waiting for someone to show back up looking for Casey,” Ghost returned. “I said, hold tight.”
Beatle ground his teeth together, but did as he was ordered. His eyes scanned the part of the camp that he could see. His mind going a million miles an hour. It was wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on what was bothering him, but this wasn’t what he’d expected to see when they’d arrived at the location.
Instead of a hastily erected tent camp, the structures that were still standing looked semi-permanent. He could see a wooden floor in one of the circular huts. There were fire pits scattered around and even what looked like a large common-area tent. Why would guerrilla kidnappers have such a permanent outpost?
He wasn’t surprised to see a few dead bodies here and there. It was likely they were the result of the rescue mission done by the Huntsmen. There were a number of huts smoldering, as if they’d caught fire days ago when the raid had happened, but generally the majority of the village was still standing. For the most part, it looked as if the residents had just stepped away for a moment.
“Hollywood, you and Fletch start clearing from the far end. Me, Truck, and Coach will slowly work our way toward you from this side. Blade and Beatle, you guys do the same from yours. We’ll meet in the middle. If you come across hostiles, make the kill quietly if at all possible. The last thing we want is to announce our presence and have everyone in a five-mile radius on our asses.”
Beatle internally nodded. They’d been over the plan more than once, but Ghost repeating it was standard operating procedure.
“And make sure you turn on your cameras,” Ghost added.
Scowling, Beatle flipped on the tiny camera located at the base of his throat. They’d been added to their uniforms and SOP after a team of Special Forces soldiers had murdered a group of civilians in the Middle East while on patrol. They’d claimed it was self-defense, but the investigation had been brutal for all involved because it had been impossible to gather evidence from the scene after the fact…and not only because all the witnesses were killed.
The cameras obviously weren’t foolproof. If they had the desire, they could go in and destroy the rest of the village, burn all the huts to the ground, kill anyone they came in contact with, then start their cameras, claiming they’d come upon the village and found everyone dead and all the structures burning. But no one on the team would even consider doing that. They were honorable men, and even if their actions could be questioned later, they always did everything by the book.
But because of past violations by men who were supposed to be on the side of right and good, Ghost and his teammates each wore a small camera. It worked much like the dash-cams on police cars. They were required to turn them on before any sort of op…just in case. Big Brother was always watching.
Quietly and deadly, Beatle made his way toward the first hut, fully prepared to kill anyone he came across with the sharp six-inch KA-BAR in his hand.
Within minutes, all seven Delta men stood together in the center of the abandoned village.
“Is anyone else’s ‘what the fuck’ meter pegged?” Hollywood asked gruffly.
“Yeah, something’s off. Way off,” Coach agreed.
“This wasn’t a temporary asshole kidnapper’s hideout.” Ghost said what they were all thinking.
“Nope. By the look of the few dead bodies that are still recognizable, this was a native village,” Fletch agreed. “I’m guessing there was some resistance when the Danes entered the village, but it was quickly squelched, either because they grabbed the girls and got out, or because the villagers realized they were out of their depth.”
“So where’s Casey?” Blade asked, looking frustrated and heartbroken all at the same time.
“According to the Huntsmen, the hut where the girls were being held was over there,” Ghost said, pointing at one of the small structures.
The team made their way over and examined it. There were a few marks on the wall to one side, as if the girls had been keeping track of how long they’d been held captive. There was a pair of socks sitting forlornly across the room, as if one of the women had taken them off to dry before the rescue happened and hadn’t been able to retrieve them.
A bucket lay on its side nearby, the smell coming from it letting the men know exactly what its purpose had been.
“Spread out,” Ghost ordered. “There has to be some clue as to what they did with our target.”
“She’s not a fucking target,” Blade growled. “Her name is Casey.”
“Sorry, Blade,” Ghost apologized immediately. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Blade took a deep breath, then nodded.
“Keep your eyes peeled,” Ghost said. “Anything, no matter how small, could be a clue.”
Hollywood, Ghost, Fletch, Coach, and Truck disappeared into the village and jungle surrounding it within seconds.
Beatle stood stock still, his gaze sweeping the area around the hut where the other women had been held.
“What are you seeing?” Blade asked softly.
“I don’t know.”
Seconds went by, then Blade said, “Talk to me.”
“There’s a clue here…I can feel it. It’s like my subconscious recognized it when I saw it, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
Beatle closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. When he looked around, all he saw was jungle, the huts all around them, a couple smoldering, others perfectly fine, and the ashes of the abandoned fires. What had he seen that had caused this feeling?
He stepped to the side and put his back to the jungle and examined what was left of the village. It looked to have been a fairly large community. There were at least thirty huts, which meant there had been probably around a hundred people living there. Most likely more.
A hundred people living in the middle of the jungle. That meant organization. This wasn’t a nomadic village. They were established. Settled. So where did they all go? And why?
Beatle glanced around again, seeing what he hadn’t bothered to take note of before—the paths leading off into the jungle at various places.
“Look, Blade.” He gestured to one of the paths with his chin.
“What am I looking at?”
“It’s a path. Maybe to a water source. Or a bathroom.”
“And?”
Beatle turned to look at his friend. “I don’t know. But my gut is screaming. Look, the girls said it themselves, they were hanging in there until Casey was taken away. We both know there wasn’t any ransom requested, so why did they separate her?”
Blade stood straighter. “Because she was older. More experienced. Their leader.”
“Yeah. Take away the leader and the group falls into chaos. But why would their kidnappers want that? I mean, wouldn’t it have been better to have the group calm and cooperative?”
“No clue,” Blade said. “Honestly, I don’t really care right now. I just want to find my sister. When they took her away from the girls, wouldn’t they just stash her in another hut?”
“Maybe the natives were getting restless. Didn’t want the gringas in their village anymore,” Beatle surmised.
Blade looked pensive, but not convinced. “Maybe.”
“If they didn’t have any other hut to p
ut her in, maybe they improvised.”
“Why wouldn’t they just kill her?”
Beatle could tell it hurt his friend to ask. This kind of back and forth with the questions was something they did all the time when trying to come up with answers. It was just one technique the team used. “Maybe they did. But then they’d have to put the body somewhere. They couldn’t just leave her on the outskirts of the village. It would attract predators. Or maybe there were some people in the village who didn’t know about the women being held here, so they had to keep it on the down-low.”
“So they needed to stash her someplace.”
“Right. But maybe whoever kidnapped them in the first place had a use for her. Didn’t want to kill her. Wanted to separate her from the others for another reason.”
“Yeah, all right,” Blade said, sounding more optimistic. “So he took her into the jungle, and would still need to stash her somewhere.”
“Probably using the paths,” Beatle agreed.
Blade reached up and pressed the button in his ear. “Beatle and I have a theory.” Then he proceeded to tell his teammates what they’d deduced. “Search each and every path leading away from the village. Anything that looks like it could hide a person, check it.”
With a renewed sense of purpose, Blade and Beatle each turned their back on the village and took a path leading deeper into the jungle.
The hair on the back of Beatle’s neck was standing straight up, but he didn’t know if it was because they were close to finding Casey, or if it was because danger was waiting for them in the jungle. He hoped it was the former, but he knew the possibility of the latter was more likely. Pulling his KA-BAR from its sheath, he kept one eye on his surroundings and the other on the jungle floor.
I’m coming for you, Casey. Just hang on.
Chapter Three
Casey sucked the scant moisture from the underside of her bra desperately. The half swallow of liquid she’d collected since the last time she’d checked her makeshift filter wasn’t enough. Wasn’t nearly enough.