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I shook his hand. “I fucking hope so. I can’t believe where she is.” Scowling, I strode to our high-tech setup.
“Layla gave me coordinates.” I sat at a computer and pulled Google Maps onto the main screen.
“She gave you coordinates?” Wyatt said. “That’s unusual.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I punched in the numbers Layla had given and the screen zoomed in on a satellite image of dense jungle, a tiny red dot marking Layla's location. “Son of a bitch! She's in the middle of fucking nowhere!”
“State of Amazonas,” Booker said, shaking his head. “No wonder she had coordinates. There’s nothing but jungle for hundreds of miles.”
“Layla said the only way in was by boat. Along here.” I pointed at a brown river snaking through the green. “The Amazon River.”
“I bet there are crocs in that river. And piranhas. Oh, and giant anacondas. Sounds like fun.” Wyatt grinned. “Count me in.”
I clapped his back. “Thanks, Wyatt. Who else is coming?”
Booker shook his head. “Just us three. Everyone else is on missions.”
“Fuck!” I slammed my fist on the table.
“Keep your head on, Hunter.” Booker glared at me.
“Going in by river will take too long to reach her.” Fear churned inside me. “We need a chopper.”
“I’ll get Charlie Cooper onto finding us a bird.” Booker tugged his phone from his pocket.
Charlie always knew a guy who could get hold of any aircraft we needed, and his reach seemed to span the entire planet.
Booker pointed at Wyatt. “Give Stone Jacobs a call and have our clearances into Columbia and Brazil sorted.”
“Yes, sir,” Wyatt said.
Booker met my gaze. “Get our comms organized. We’ll need a sat phone in that region.”
“Copy that.” I marched to our equipment cupboard and as I pulled out our gear, my mind slammed to Layla. It had been over an hour since she left that message.
Why the fuck didn’t I answer my phone? If anything happens to her . . .
“Right.” Booker clapped his hands, dragging me from my mental shit storm. “Charlie will meet us in Bogota, and he has a chopper ready for us when we land in Brazil. Grab your gear and let’s roll. We’ll make the rest of our plans on our way to the airport. Hank has a jet ready to fly us to Columbia.”
With Booker and Wyatt at my side, a flicker of hope crashed through my mounting anxiety.
We boarded a private jet and flew out of Yellowstone toward Bogota, Colombia. The flight was long and turbulent, giving me way too much time to stew over Layla, and what the fuck she could be doing in the middle of the Amazon. She sounded terrified and as I replayed her message over and over in my head, another layer of dread stacked in my mind. We were taking too long.
“Hey, Hunter.” Wyatt kicked my boot. “You remember that crazy mission in Panama?”
He must need a distraction; Wyatt was not a fan of flying.
I forced a half-smile. “Yeah, man. That was insane.”
“Maybe this mission will top that?” He wriggled his eyebrows.
“As long as Layla comes out alive, I’ll take whatever is thrown at us.”
“That’s the plan. Hey, maybe we’ll see a tarantula.” Wyatt grinned.
“As long as it’s not on me, I’m up for that,” I said.
“Or an anaconda, those things get huge.”