“The call came as soon as we diverted to the jungle,” Boone confirmed Liam’s own suspicions.
He mulled over the last two days. “Charlie Team, hold position. We're continuing sweep based on gut.”
Rafe didn’t question it. Just gave a quiet grunt. “Copy that.”
Dax, Boone, and Xander’s acknowledgments came next.
They pressed on, deeper into the jungle. The ground sloped, giving way to a narrow stretch of flat terrain. The canopy thinned, allowing faint rays of sunlight to filter through the leaves.
“Charlie One, Charlie Five. I have boot prints.”
“Copy. Hold position.” Liam veered to his right to inspect Xander’s find.
Xander pointed to the impressions in the dirt.
Liam crouched and ran his fingers over the tracks. A day old. Maybe less. He scanned the vegetation. Broken branches caught his eye. “Signs of life.”
“I agree.” Xander stood next to him, his rifle across his midsection, ready if needed.
“Fan out. Stay alert,” Liam ordered.
“Your gut speaking to you?” Dax asked.
“Like bad sushi.”
“Charlie Team, lock it down.” Rafe’s command held no room for questions.
The team pulled in close and moved with precision as one through the dense foliage.
He appreciated his second in command’s faith in his instincts. Liam methodically swept the area as he moved deeper into the jungle.
A deserted camp came into view. He raised a closed fist. The team stopped. Minutes ticked by. No movement, but he didn’t trust first impressions. Nothing about this mission rang true. He squinted at the space between two ancient tree trunks in the distance.
A hut—crudely built and camouflaged by vines. Not visible from any path. Exactly the kind of place someone wouldn’t want found.
With a two-fingered motion, he gave orders.
Weapons raised, they spread out. Boone moved left. Dax flanked right. Rafe took rear. Liam advanced center, with Xander stacked behind him. Every nerve in his body fired at once.
Liam approached the wooden and thatch structure, while the others stood watch on the perimeter.
No movement. No sounds.
So far so good.
He signaled Xander to stand guard at the door and moved in. The door creaked as he eased it open, weapon raised.
A woman sat slumped against the far wall. Bruised. Dirty. Her wrists bound and tethered to a pole in the middle of the hut. Her head lolled forward. He stepped inside. The door swung shut behind him.
She lifted her head slowly, but the dim lighting from the cracks in the hut obscured her face. “Liam?”
He froze. His heart slammed against his ribs. He’d know that voice anywhere. The one that had saved his hide more than once. He rushed to her side and dropped to one knee. “Raven?”
She nodded. Tears tracked a path through the grime on her face. “You came.”
His jaw tightened as he secured his weapon and removed the blade from his tactical pants. “We were sent in after a defense contractor’s daughter. My contact called and told us the target died in a car accident. But something kept me from pulling out.”
“I prayed you’d find me.”
