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“Where’s it coming from?” Belinda said. “Are they close?”
He shook his head. Unlike her, Beast hadn’t sprawled on his belly—he was crouched, eyes on the forest, searching for a clue as to how much danger they were in.
“It sounded like it came from a distance away. Maybe even back at the camp,” Beast whispered.
The jungle was eerily silent for a minute before monkeys started hollering in the canopy above them, warning each other that danger was coming.
“How far are we from camp?” Belinda whispered.
“Not far. We haven’t been walking long, and we can’t move fast in this terrain.”
Another couple of shots rang out, and Belinda flinched, even though this time she knew they were coming from a distance away. Beast’s hand curled round her arm.
“Come on. We need to get moving.” He pointed into the bush. “I think it’s coming from that direction, but I’m not sure. Sound gets muffled and bounces around in here.” He stood, pulling her to her feet, and then glanced at his watch. “We’re going that way.” He pointed. “Start running, Hollywood.”
Belinda didn’t need to be told twice.
“Gunfire,” Ryan reported over the comm system that linked the Benson Security team with the local chief of police and the two officers he’d insisted accompany him. “South side of camp.”
He signalled to his teammates, Harvard and Violet, indicating that they should up the pace. Together, they ran as silently as possible through the forest, aware that Dimitri and his team were doing exactly the same on the other side of the camp. They’d been flown in to a clearing not far from the cartel’s base, but not so close that the noise from the chopper would tip them off that they had company. From there, they’d cut through the jungle on foot.
De la Cruz had stayed with the chopper. He’d been impressive on the flight over the jungle canopy, handling the chopper deftly and spotting landmarks that none of them would have seen. Ryan wasn’t sure what his background was, but he would bet there was time in the military in there somewhere. De la Cruz fit in easily with the Benson Security team, making it hard to remember that they barely knew the guy.
Lake and Callum had taken the local police along with their team and were following the path from the river into the compound. Ryan knew that Callum’s job wasn’t to watch for the kidnappers, but to keep an eye on the chief of police and his men, to make sure they didn’t go rogue on them.
There was silence as Ryan’s team jogged towards the kidnappers’ encampment. No one wanted to think about what the gunfire might mean. Their focus was on the mission. There was no time to speculate.
Two more shots rang out, followed by shouting. It was too far away for Ryan to make out what was being said—even if he had understood more than basic Spanish.
“I will go in first, with my men,” the police chief said over the comm unit tucked into Ryan’s ear. “This is our turf, our people. You will take orders from—”
Ryan didn’t hear the rest, because Lake’s voice cut in. “Frequency Delta.”
Everyone on the team changed comm frequency, effectively cutting the police chief and his men out of the loop and leaving them to deal with Callum’s sunny disposition.
“Coming up on the camp,” Dimitri said.
“Roger that,” Lake said. “Check for explosives.”
“Roger,” Dimitri answered.
It was a reminder to all that the kidnappers were known for rigging their camps to blow.
“We have visual,” Ryan whispered, knowing the throat mic would easily pick up his voice. His eyes were on the small, badly built shack visible through the trees.
“Roger that,” Lake said.
Ryan signalled for Harvard and Violet to eyeball the building, while he held back to cover them. Someone shouted. An engine revved.
“Team one,” Dimitri said to Lake. “Two on dirt bikes, coming at you fast.”
“Roger,” Lake said.
Ryan kept low and covered Violet as she peeked through the cabin window.
“Empty.” Violet’s voice was loud in his ear.
“Proceed with caution,” Ryan told them.
