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The guards checking the roofs of the trucks behind Juan and Linc were making quick work of it. They had only a minute left before a flashlight would catch them lying atop the cargo section of the lead truck.
Linc nudged Juan. “Our escape route is blocked,” he whispered.
Juan followed his gaze to the flashlights of a dozen guards scouring the jungle. And stealing the truck was out of the question since they’d have to take time to turn around and run the gauntlet of the guards behind them, all of whom were armed with automatic rifles.
Since the road ended at a rocky hill that would be impossible to climb without being exposed to gunfire, that left only one option.
“Looks like we’re going for a swim,” Juan replied, looking at the bay. He spoke quietly into his mic. “We need evac, Linda. What’s your ETA to the dock?”
“Three minutes submerged,” she said, “but we can be there in a minute if we surface.”
“No, stay under. I don’t want to tip our hand. We’ll meet you two hundred yards offshore and two hundred yards west of the supply ship.”
“Acknowledged. See you there.”
“Got your Spare Air?” Juan asked Linc as he removed a tiny air tank and goggles from his pack and stuffed them into his front pocket for quick access. The disposable tank had a mouthpiece and enough air for fifteen breaths.
Linc nodded and readied his own tank and goggles.
They edged closer to the truck’s cab, ready to climb down and make a dash for the sea, when the clouds parted. The uncovered half-moon bathed them in light.
They froze in place, but it was too late. One of the men in the jungle spotted their silhouettes through the trees and yelled to the others.
Juan and Linc tumbled onto the hood and to the ground as bullets raked the truck, smashing windows and tearing up the side of the hood. One of the rounds hit the still-hot radiator, and steam shot out of the grille. Another must have hit the fuel tank because Juan could smell gasoline, gushing onto the gravel road.
“So much for a stealthy escape,” Juan said, crouching by the hood.
“It’s a long way to the water,” Linc said. They were thirty feet from the seawall that had been built to buttress the road.
Juan took aim at the flashlights in the jungle. “I’ll cover you. You can return the favor from behind the seawall. Go!”
Juan opened up on the foliage, knowing he’d have to be incredibly lucky to hit anyone. Linc ran as Juan emptied his magazine. When he was out, he reloaded and stole a look behind him in time to see the huge former Navy SEAL dive over the seawall. Water erupted onto the rocks like he’d done a cannonball.
Then he saw Linc pop up, his submachine gun at the ready.
As Juan got into a sprinter’s stance to make his run across the open stretch of road, he looked to the dock and saw Tagaan level a scoped assault rifle in his direction.
Juan jumped back, narrowly avoiding the rounds that whizzed past. No way was he going to cross that distance without getting hit.
Then he heard Gomez’s voice in his ear.
“I got you, Chairman,” he said. “Get ready to run. Linc, start firing.”
Linc didn’t bother asking what their eye in the sky had in mind. He began hosing down the jungle with bullets.
“Now, Chairman,” Gomez said calmly.
Juan took off, his eyes on Tagaan as he ran. The communist no longer had his rifle aimed at Juan. Instead, he was swatting at the air with the weapon, vainly trying to smack the quadcopter drone that buzzed around him, but Gomez was too skilled a pilot to let it get hit.
It provided just the distraction Juan needed. He raced across the road, rolled over the seawall, and slipped into the water. He didn’t surface, instead taking the Spare Air tank from his vest and clamping his teeth around the mouthpiece attached directly to the small tank.
He breathed in and put his goggles on. The water was so clear that he could see Linc join him underwater with his own tank.
Juan checked the compass on his wrist and pointed in the direction where he told Linda they’d meet.
They descended to six feet to avoid the bullets hitting the water around them and began swimming.
• • •
