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“So,” he whispered triumphantly, “we meet again, eh? Stand up!”
The children ran screaming back down the path toward the village.
A second man appeared out of the dark jungle, short brown hair, as tall as Alex, with his dark blue eyes narrowed on her. He quickly removed the pistol from her belt and frisked her roughly for any other weapons.
“Hurry, Morozov!” Volkov snapped. He jerked a look over his shoulder. “Those brats will alert everyone.”
Lauren gasped, her heart pounding in her breast. How? How did they find her? She felt Volkov’s hand dig painfully into her shoulder. “Scream and you die,” he snarled.
Morozov pulled out a pair of plastic flex cuffs, quickly binding her hands in front of her. Next, he took out a dirty green rag and pushed it into her mouth, tying its corners behind her head. “Let’s go,” he snapped, gripping her arm, jerking her forward.
No! God, no!Lauren wasn’t going down easily. The instant Volkov lowered his pistol, she whirled on her left boot, her right leg arcing up, catching him in the chest, flinging him backward off his feet. He grunted. The pistol flew out of his hand.
She head Morozov curse and swung around. He lunged at her. She snapped her booted foot upward, slamming it into his chest. He let out a loud, “oofff,” and staggered backward, falling.
Now!Lauren turned, racing, slipping and sliding down the trail, heading back toward the village. Her nostrils flared as they drank in huge draughts of air. The mud slowed her. She heard pounding boots coming up behind her, catching up with her.No! No!One of them tackled her from behind. Lauren slammed into the ground, striking her head on an exposed root. It was the last thing she remembered.
Alex heard thechildren screaming. He knew Quechua. They were calling out for help. He lowered the map he was showing Killmer.
“What the hell?” Killmer growled, picking up his rifle.
Alex saw the first child flying between the huts, running toward them, her face etched with panic and fear. He snapped up his AK-47, hearing the girl screaming, “Bad men! Bad men!”
The rest of the children were flooding down across the other street, moving between the huts, racing toward them for safety’s sake.
Alex leaned down to the first little girl, her eyes wide with fear, crying. Quickly, he spoke to her in her language. “Where is the red-haired woman? Where is she?”
The little girl sobbed. “Bad men have her! Hurry! She will die! She will die!”
Alex’s mouth thinned. “Where? Where did this happen? Show us! Quickly!”
The rest of the children arrived, panting, scared, looking over their shoulders, panicked. They all pointed toward where they had just come from up on the hill.
“Dammit,” Killmer growled, “she’s been kidnapped by Petrov!” He got on his radio, calling his other two team mates, ordering them back to the empty hut immediately.
Alex caressed the little girl’s muddy cheek, keeping his voice soft and low. “Tell me where they went? Where did the bad men take Lauren?”
The girl sniffed and turned her face up, “The trail. We took her up there to show her orchids that had fallen from the trees. T-they grabbed her. We ran…”
Alex didn’t wait for any of them. He knew where the trail was. Remembered it well. Digging in the toes of his boots, mud flying behind him, he dashed away.Petrov!The bastard must have shadowed them. His mind was working like a steel trap. He heard Killmer yell at him, but he refused to stop.
With his AK-47 in hand, he unsafed it as he ran, ramming a bullet into the chamber. Alex hit the trail hard, slipping, damn near falling. He righted himself, taking the steep slope with huge strides, urgency thrumming through him. It began to rain. Heavily. The jungle was dark and, as he crested the hill, he saw nothing. Running forward, his heart bursting with agony, with fear for Lauren, he rounded a small curve.
There, on the ground, were several scattered orchids. He slid to a stop, breathing hard, forcing himself to listen. To see if he could hear his old team. Turning, eyes narrowed, he peered into the grayish veil falling into the jungle. It was easy for the Russians to move through this area and make a quick escape because there was no brush or other impediments to slow them down. Looking around, he spotted muddy tracks. He’d recognize Russian combat boot prints anywhere, and saw two sets of them. And then, he recognized Lauren’s boot prints. Wiping his mouth, sobbing for breath, he wanted to scream out her name. But, if he did, Petrov would hear him… know he was being pursued. The rain fell hard, blocking his view of most of the jungle. The tracks were already being washed out. What were they going to do with Lauren? Alex didn’t even dare go there. Oh, God, this could not be happening! He’d just found her! And she was in the hands of ex-Spetsnaz soldiers who knew how to torture. To rape. To kill. The only hope they had was that his friend, their combat medic, was with the Russian team. Nik Morozov could protect Lauren. Alex knew that Nik’s protective side toward children and women was just as strong as his was. If only Nik was with them… Alex was unsure, but he prayed that his friend was present.
Killmer and his team raced down the path, their faces hard. Sliding to a halt, they did the same thing Alex had: look for tracks. Look for the direction their enemy went.
Wiping his face, Alex said, “They’re taking her through the jungle,” and he pointed to some prints he’d found in the soft, soggy, decomposed soil.
“Yeah,” Killmer growled. He looked around. “Petrov’s team.”
“For sure,” Alex rasped, wiping his face. He pulled out his black baseball cap, settling it on his head. “I’m going after them.”
“Not without us, you aren’t,” Killmer said.
Alex gave them a hard stare. “I know them. I know where they could be taking Lauren.”
“Then we’ll follow. But first, we need to get our rucks, get ready to go after them.”
