Jamie Freveletti - Running from the Devil

“Major Miguel? We had a suspicious aircraft sighting in your area. We believed it was a helicopter, flying low. When we attempted to establish contact, Mr. Sumner spoke back to us.”

“Cameron Sumner, in a helicopter? What did he say?” Miguel felt an adrenaline surge. It was about time they had a break.

“He had stolen the helicopter and was under fire. Within seconds, all contact was broken.”

Miguel’s mood crashed. “Was he able to give you any idea of where he was?”

“I have the actual coordinates. May I give them to you?”

Miguel’s mood rose again. “Have I said what an excellent program the Air Tunnel people run?”

A chuckle came over the line. “We do our best, Major Miguel. We do our best.”

Miguel called Banner at Darkview and waited while the receptionist routed the call elsewhere. When Banner finally came on the line, his news was not as uplifting as Lopez’s.

“Margate pulled the plug on aid to Colombia until the passengers are returned safely. He’s demanding extradition.”

“There goes the deal,” Miguel said.

“Right.”

“Any news on the paras’ response?”

“The Cartone cartel is hunting Rodrigo to kill him, the other paramilitary guys are hunting the Cartone cartel, Rodrigo, and the FFOC to kill them, and the Colombian military has orders to shoot on sight. They’re all converging on your area.”

“And the passengers?”

“Caught in the middle. These guys kill. None of them has any experience in actually saving people. I wouldn’t count on any passengers surviving the shit storm that’s coming your way. So get the hell out of there. It’s going to be raining fire in your area in the next twenty-four hours.”

“You want me to pack up and go? Just like that?” Miguel was astonished.

“I don’t want it, the Colombian government does. When Margate pulled the plug on aid, the Colombian president demanded an immediate withdrawal of all U.S. military personnel in Colombia. He said that any further search and rescue will be conducted by the Colombian army.”

“You said I have twenty-four hours. If that’s all I get, then I need more backup. I need a guy, a leader, who can do what it takes without me being there to hold his hand. The guys I have here are good, but too young to be of help.”

“Margate refused any additional assistance. I can’t overrule him, and even if I could, I’m not sure I want to. I’d be putting whatever poor slob I picked into a death trap.”

“Banner?”

“Yes?”

“Where are you? How do you feel about coming back into the field?”

The silence on the end of the line was almost palpable.

“I’ll get back to you,” Banner said. Then he hung up.

Miguel mapped out the coordinates. “He’s ten miles away, due north.”

“Did Sumner say if Ms. Caldridge was with him?” Kohl hated the idea of leaving the path and heading up the road. He was sure Ms. Caldridge had continued through the jungle.

“He did not.” Miguel sat back on his heels. “I know this landing strip. It’s on the Air Tunnel map.” He hauled out the ATD’s map showing the known landing strips. “There’s a second near an abandoned training center for Colombian military.”

“Maybe it’s not abandoned now. Maybe it’s filled with passengers,” Kohl said.

“Maybe. The good news is that I think I know how to get there. The bad news is that it’s back down the path. It’s a switchback that cuts in about five miles from here.”

Kohl groaned. “Five miles on that path will take us another day.”

Miguel hit him on the shoulder. “We have a direction, Kohl.”

“What about Ms. Caldridge?”

“The human race car? Don’t worry about her. She’s probably run all the way to Cartagena by now.”

35

EMMA SAT NEXT TO SUMNER, WHO WAS TIED AGAINST THE TREE, and watched the sentry walk around the wooden watchtower. Every so often the man took a hit off a flask he kept in his boot. He’d swallow the liquid, smack his lips, and spit down to the ground. Once it got dark, he put his rifle on the parapet and jumped down. He put the liquor bottle next to four others that sat open in a row on the ground. He waved at Emma, giving a guttural order in Spanish.

“He wants you to help build a fire,” Sumner translated.

Emma rose wearily and assisted three male passengers to start a fire. The passengers’ clothes were soaking wet. One coughed while he shoved dried sticks under a collection of wood, some of it still wet. While the passengers worked stacking the wood in a large pyramid, Emma walked to the edge of the camp collecting dried weeds. She’d pull a few, then push them under the sticks for kindling. She concentrated her weed-searching efforts close to the open bottles of aguardiente. Each time she returned to the bottles, she pulled a seed pod from her cargo pants’ pockets, hit it with a stone to break it open, and dropped it in the liquor. By the time the bonfire was burning, Emma had managed to fill the bottles undetected. The flames lit the night sky. She would have enjoyed her first dry heat in days if it wasn’t for her fear of being thrown on it in some awful sacrificial manner. She didn’t trust Rodrigo.

“He’s insane, isn’t he?” Emma whispered to Sumner when she returned to sit next to him.

“I think so, yes.” Sumner’s voice was bleak.

“He isn’t the leader, you know. Smoking Man in the shirtsleeves at the airstrip was.”

“Rodrigo couldn’t lead his way out of a paper bag.”

Mathilde sauntered over. She stopped in front of Sumner, tossed her hair, and struck a pose.

Sumner ignored her.

She sneered at Emma. “So, you and your lover meet mine, eh? He is one of the best leaders in the north. When this mission is done, all of Colombia will know his name.”

Mathilde eyed her fingernails as she spoke. Emma had the distinct impression that she didn’t give a damn about Rodrigo. All she cared about was his upward mobility.

“I feel sorry for you, Mathilde. A woman with your intelligence and looks stuck in this hellhole of a jungle. You deserve better.” Emma accompanied these words with a sigh, as if Mathilde’s situation was truly tragic to her.

Mathilde bristled. “I don’t need your”—she appeared to search for the right word in English—“sorry.”

“You have the opportunity to change your situation right now. But”—Emma shrugged—“if you like the jungle so much…”

“What opportunity do I have?”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps you would like to trade, eh?”

Mathilde looked at Emma in surprise. “What do you mean? You have nothing to trade.”

Emma leaned forward in what she hoped appeared to be a friendly, conspiratorial way, like two girlfriends, chatting.

“I’ll trade my lover for yours. It is not an even trade, because mine is much more valuable to you, but yours has me prisoner, so right now he has some value to me.”

Mathilde looked at Emma as though she’d gone mad. Sumner raised an eyebrow at Emma as if to say, What the hell? Emma acted as though the conversation was routine.

“My lover works with the Air Tunnel Denial program. If you free him, it will be a sign of your good faith. He could pull strings to get you a deal under the disarmament, with no extradition. You could get out of here for good.”

Sumner shot an appalled glance at Emma. Emma kept her eyes on Mathilde.

Mathilde gave a toss of her head. “The disarmament deal is not offered to Rodrigo, only to the far right.”

“Sumner could speak to his superiors here and in the United States. Get them to make an exception for you. After all, you weren’t really involved in the hijacking with Rodrigo. Why should you suffer for his mistakes?”