Page 6 of Depths of Destruction

I climb up the ladder with my racing heart and am yanked over to Santiago. He holds his phone out. "You will repeat in the camera what I tell you to say."

I stay silent.

"My name is Naomi Salazar. I am an investigative journalist and have proof that the top leaders, including Prime Minister Vasquez, Deputy Prime Minister Flowers, and every cabinet minister, have accepted funds from both the Belize and Colombian drug cartels. If Nicolas Gómez is not returned to Colombia within forty-eight hours, I will release all the information I have."

My stomach twists.This is why they wanted me. I'm their leverage.

Santiago sneers in my face. "Do you understand what you are going to say?"

"I don't have any information with me," I quickly reply.

"Bring her," he shouts in my face.

Bring her?

A sick smile forms on Santiago's face.

What is happening?

He roughly grasps my chin, tilting my head toward a Jeep. The door opens. My mouth goes dry, my gut twisting so quickly, I swallow down bile as my sister, Emilia, is dragged out of the car with a burlap bag over her head.

"Leave her out of this," I demand, but Santiago's response is to slap me hard.

The sting radiates across the side of my face. I wonder if he cracked my cheekbone.

Fisting a chunk of my hair, he raises his eyebrows. "You want your sister in the hole with you, or with my men?"

"Don't touch her!" My voice shakes.

Emilia's sobs ring through the air. Santiago repositions my head toward her. They remove the bag. One of his thugs towers over her and steps in front of her, running his hands over her breasts while the other one clutches her from behind, holding her tight to his body. His face is against her cheek as he grips her chin. Tears drip down Emilia's face.

"Choose," Santiago growls.

My voice is shaky, but I demand, "Let her go. I'll do what you want."

He nods his head toward the hole. The men tug her over to it. Once her entire body is no longer visible, Santiago holds up his phone. "You get one chance."

There is no other way. I'm a pawn for him to get what he wants.

The camera is like a mirror mocking me as I stare at myself.

"Now," he barks.

"M-my name is Naomi Salazar. I am an investigative journalist and have proof that the top leaders..."

2

Andre

As soon asmy feet hit the ground in Belize, the helicopter takes off. I run over to the site of the makeshift control center and camp my team created in the middle of the dense jungle. Several tents are already up. Tree logs are being used for tables and chairs. A bonfire pit is dug with kindling ready to be lit. There's a river a few yards into the forest to use for bathing.

"Andre." Malin Cox pats my back. His gray eyes light up when he sees me, and a dimple appears from his grin. A drop of sweat drips from his blond hair, and he wipes at it. We were both in the Marines together and have been on too many rescue missions to count.

"What's the situation?"

"Colombian drug kingpin Santiago Gómez has a Belizean reporter hostage. Our sources tell us they also are holding her sister and several other prominent women who have been missing." Hunter Ward, another one of my former Marine buddies, runs his hand through his thick, light-brown hair. His normal twinkling brown eyes are filled with concern and his square jaw is clenched.

"What country is running point on this?" I ask.