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Alex nodded. “The Russian mafia is a cruel place. They have no heart.”
“Got that right,” Merrill muttered. His face lightened as the little girls continued to touch Lauren’s hair, her shoulder and then her face. They were shy, mesmerized by the white-skinned American woman with red hair.
“How is your good will with this village?” Alex asked him.
“Killmer has been slowly winning over the chief. But, as you know, Alexandrov turned at least ten of the village men into cocaine mules. They work for Petrov now, and the chief is furious about that. Those men were the hunters for the village and without them now, they are near starvation.”
Alex nodded. He knew the chief, Juan Zavas, an older man in his fifties. “Zavas hated Alexandrov and the rest of us, with good reason,” he murmured, continuing to look around. The village had been cleared out of the jungle, the walls of which were about fifty feet away on all sides from the huts. “I am sure Sergeant Killmer had problems getting Zavas to trust him.”
“Yeah, it’s been pretty tough earning the chief’s loyalty.” Merrill motioned to the children who were now laughing and smiling around Lauren. She was pulling more candy out of her pocket to give one piece to each of the little girls first, making the boys wait. “He’s agreed to let us sometimes stay in that empty hut, but not for any length of time. And he’s stingy with what he knows. He’s afraid Petrov will find out and punish his people by killing them.”
Alex felt badly for the villagers, and said nothing. He kept one eye on Lauren and the children, but continued his perusal of the area. “I know there are small feeder trails that lead from that hill to this village.”
“Yeah, there’s three.”
“We saw them on the map the other day. I was looking at those feeder paths surrounding the hill when we hiked by it earlier. The map wasn’t clear about how many egress routes there really were.” Being able to egress or escape, was vital for a sniper and his or her partner if everything went to hell in a handbag and they were outnumbered and outgunned.
Merrill rubbed his bearded face. “There’s one trail that leads to the village, but the other two swing back on this same major trail,” and Cale pointed in the direction of the hill. “There are three smaller paths made by peccary, but two, further down off the hill, merge back into the one main feeder trail below it and it goes back into the jungle.”
Nodding, Alex looked up and saw that the whitish clouds were beginning to lift. He figured a front had passed through the area last night. It would be good to be able to dry out a little. He spotted Killmer coming around the edge of a hut further down the same street where Lauren was with the excited children.
He didn’t seem happy, despite the game face that Alex knew the sergeant had on. It was more a sense than any expression in the operator’s gray eyes. The children saw the big, tall soldier coming and they scattered like a flock of startled birds, running toward their families’ huts and disappearing. Alex felt badly for them. The children were frightened of any white men they saw, most likely thinking they were the violent, murderous Russians. He watched Lauren get to her feet, and wipe some of the worst of the mud off her right knee. Killmer slowed down as he approached them. Alex saw happiness in Lauren’s eyes. Her gaze met his, and he felt warmth spread across his chest. She looked so beautiful to him, his gaze flickering momentarily to her smiling mouth. There was a new softness to her this morning. He saw it. He wondered if the others did, too. Her cheeks were flushed and she was radiant.
There was such a powerful, invisible bond growing strong and unbreakable between them. He ached to see happiness like this in her eyes and face. She was smiling. And it moved deeply through Alex.
Killmer halted as his group moved in to hear what he had to say. Lauren joined the group.
“We have some Band-Aids to put into place,” he growled. Lifting his chin, he moved it in the direction of the trail outside the village. “Petrov came through here two days ago.”
“Shit,” Cale said, “he’s off schedule, then.”
Frowning, Lauren said, “How reliable is Petrov with his schedule around his region?”
Rubbing his beard, Killmer said, “Not at all reliable.” He scowled. “We think things are changing, but we don’t know why. Petrov may be responding to something I’m not aware of. Could be firefights with the local drug lords.”
Alex said, “It could be that Petrov is getting pressured from above. His boss may be wanting more production of cocaine being made.”
Nodding, Killmer said, “My thoughts, too.” He studied Alex for a moment. “When you were here with Alexandrov, was he consistent in his visits to all the villages under his command?”
“Yes, very. He gave each chief a demand for exactly so many pounds of cocaine that they had to produce. If those quotas were not met, well,” and he shrugged. “Things went badly for the chief’s villagers.”
“So,” Killmer growled, always looking around, always assessing the area, “you knew Petrov?”
“Yes.”
“Was he disciplined, like your boss?”
“Yes.”
“Then what the hell is going on?” Killmer growled more to himself than them.
“What did Chief Zavas say to you?” Alex asked mildly. He saw the wariness in Killmer’s eyes, weighing whether or not he wanted to tell him anything.
“Petrov came through here unannounced. He was supposed to be here in seven days. He took all their cocaine they’d made. And he wasn’t happy because the chief didn’t meet the quota.”
“Why did he arrive early?” Alex wondered.
“I don’t know. Zavas was surprised, too.”
