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Nando followed her into the thick foliage. “Where are we going?”
“To find Sam.”
She pointed toward the trail that led toward the ruins, keeping low. Nando followed behind her. When they reached the path, Remi stopped at the sound of rustling leaves up ahead. She aimed her gun. Relief flooded through her as Sam emerged on the other side. He held up his hand, motioning for them to stay where they were. He looked across the clearing, then waved at them. “Go!”
Remi took Nando’s hand, leading him down the moonlit path, watching for the pile of stones that indicated another trip wire. She stopped, pointed, then carefully stepped over it. Nando followed suit while Sam brought up the rear.
“The prisoner!” someone shouted. “Gone!”
“Maybe he set off the explosion?” another asked.
“Impossible. He was tied. You three, head south. You two, with me toward the ruins.”
Remi looked back at Sam.
“Keep low,” he said quietly. “Nando, let Remi go first. We moved some of the trip wire markers.”
He nodded, stepping behind Remi, matching his pace to hers, stopping when she did at the next wire. They stepped over it, Sam following. When they reached the ruins, Sam took a quick look around. “Inside. If we’re lucky, they’ll pass us by.”
Another explosion rocked the air. The ringing in their ears dulled the sound of someone screaming in agony. A gunshot cracked, and the screaming stopped. “Keep going!” the first guard shouted.
The moment they entered the ruins, Sam went for his pack, digging out the extra ammo and the speed loaders for his gun and the box of rounds for Remi’s.
“They’re coming,” Nando said to Sam. “Shouldn’t we try to outrun them?”
“Three-foot stone walls,” Sam said. “It’s the closest thing we have to a bunker.” He handed the box of ammo to Remi. “What do you say we go for that nice chilled champagne when we’re done?”
“Perfect plan.”
“See you at the bar, then.”
Nando, who was leaning against the wall, shook his head. “How is it you two can joke at a time like this?”
“Passes the time,” Sam said, giving the place one last look. His gaze caught on the top of the ruins and the thick vines that grew up the side, providing plenty of cover at the one window that looked out in the direction of the trail. “You’re the sharpshooter in the family,” he told Remi. “What do you think?”
She followed his gaze, then tugged on the vines. “Looks doable. Where are you going?”
“The window. They’ll be looking for us on the ground before anywhere else,” he told her. “Don’t give your position away unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“Got it.”
She holstered her gun, slipped the box of ammo into her pocket, and he gave her a boost up.
Nando watched as she climbed to the top. “What about me?”
Sam took up a position near the window on the right side, where the leafy vines created decent cover. “Keep your head down. If we’re lucky, this’ll be over soon.”
Remi stretched out along the top of the wall, the sharper stones digging into her as she drew her gun, aiming toward the trail. “And if we’re not?” she asked, glancing down at Sam.
“The champagne will have to wait.”
72
The reflection of the moonlight cast a blue glow on the thick vegetation—a cruel illusion of coolness in a jungle that refused to let go of the day’s heat. Sam wiped the sweat from his brow before it dripped into his eyes, then leaned into the wall, listening. The air vibrated with the sound of a million insects. Beyond that, nothing. Using the barrel of his gun, he nudged the leaves aside until he had a view of the trail. Nothing moved. He heard Remi shifting on the wall above. “Anything?” he whispered.
“No—wait. Movement. Two o’clock.”
Sam shifted his gaze to the right, searching until he saw the leaves move just off the trail. He tracked it with his sights, finger pressing on the trigger, waiting . . . waiting . . . A head popped up. He fired. The man fell back. Suddenly, someone jumped out on the opposite side, muzzle blast lighting up as he sprayed the walls with gunfire. Bits of rock flew up, hitting Sam in the face as he pressed back.