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Gray moved up into the doorway, gripping the edges, and the moment he felt Brax tap his shoulder, Gray pushed off and somersaulted out into thin air. The rush and roar of the wind was always exhilarating, and he soaked it in for as long as he could before glancing down at the altimeter on his wrist.Go time. He pulled the ripcord and sailed above the jungle, using the steering toggles to guide him down to his destination. From this high up, the green canopy and distant river seemed almost inviting. Peaceful and serene. But Gray knew better. It was all a facade and beneath the greenery laid a dangerous land soaked in the blood of the cartels’ enemies.
The moment his boots hit the jungle floor, Gray went into operator mode, quickly shrugging off his chute and bundling it up into his pack. While Inda deployed Zane’s precious drone, the rest of the team got organized.
Gray was back in the field, doing what he did best. So why did his knees suddenly feel like they were about to give out?Ignore it,he told himself. Focus on the mission at hand.
But his internal bravado wasn’t working. The humidity was sweltering and the rustle of exotic creatures in the underbrush should’ve made him alert. Instead, he found himself turning inward, struggling to see straight. His damn scar itching like a bastard.
Goddammit.His vision went blurry and he gripped a nearby tree, pulling in a deep breath and trying to steady himself. Having a panic attack right now would get his ass kicked off the team, not to mention let everyone down. Fighting to push through the blackness threatening to swallow him, he forced himself to stand up straight, and found himself reaching down to make sure his Glock 19 was still securely in its holster.
Of course, it was. Where the hell else would it be? Giving his head a hard shake, he swiped the sweat off his brow as his vision cleared.Thank fuck.
“Demon?”
Gray looked over to see Brax studying him with intent silver eyes. Instead of responding, Gray stalked past their leader and pulled his gun. He could and would keep his shit together and not fall apart in the middle of the goddamn jungle.
“My girl is up in the air and I’ve spotted the convoy,” Zane reported through their comms.
Hearing his friend’s voice steadied Gray even more and he got into position behind Saint, waiting for further intel.
“Three vehicles,” Zane continued, monitoring the situation with his drone.
“Which one is Bashar in?” Braxton asked.
“First SUV. And El Escorpión is in the middle one. The windows are heavily tinted and probably bulletproof, but my girl has near x-ray vision. Targets fucking acquired.”
“They’re going to need more than bulletproof glass to save their asses,” Saint growled.
“Rip and Saint, get the charges set up. Bruja, eyes open for dangerous critters.” Brax nudged a snake off to the side with the tip of his boot. “Gray and I will scout ahead.”
As everyone got down to business, Gray followed Braxton. They stayed low and off to the side. Once they were out of view of the others, Brax abruptly halted and shot his arm out, stopping Gray as well.
Gray’s chest hit Brax’s arm and he tossed the other man a questioning look.
“Everything okay?” Braxton asked.
Gray straightened up. “A-okay.”
“I know this is your first time back here since losing your team. I get that. But if you’re going to lose it, you need to turn around right the fuck now and start humping to the rendezvous point. I won’t let the rest of my team rely on someone who’s going to let them down.”
“I won’t let them down. Or you.” Gray swallowed hard. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t afford to have any more blood on his soul.
Braxton studied him for a long moment then let his arm drop. “Roger. Let’s go.”
Breathing out a silent sigh of relief, Gray moved forward, grateful Brax believed him. Because if he hadn’t, Gray knew he’d be on his way back to the plane where Hunter waited for them at a private airfield.
Gray couldn’t fuck up. He needed this. And he’d be damned before he fell apart in front of everyone.
Before long, the sound of the oncoming motorcade filled the air. Mesa, Bashar and company were headed toward them. Braxton motioned for Gray to drop down. They lowered themselves onto their bellies, sank into the spongy undergrowth of ferns and foliage, and waited.
Gray’s long fingers curled into the cool mud and sweat rolled down his temples. This was it. Time to exact some sweet revenge.
The vehicle procession finally came into view. Exactly like Zane had reported—three SUV’s, the first and last one with a man poking through the sunroof, each armed with an AK-47 assault rifle. Gray squinted, trying to see through the dark-tinted windows as they passed, searching for Alvaro Mesa. He wanted to be the one to kill him. Zane said Bashar was in the first car and El Escorpión was in the second one. Bad guys never traveled in the same vehicle.
Not that it mattered. Ex Nihilo was about to take care of the occupants in all three cars.
“We’ve got eyes on the convoy,” Braxton reported in a low voice.
“Roger,” Zane replied. “My girl is trailing them from just above the canopy. They’re clueless.”
