CHAPTER FIVE
“She’s here somewhere, Charlie One.” Draven rolled over another body and snapped a photo. Trev would download the images from the cloud attached to his device, and cross reference them with any known terrorists on most wanted lists across the globe.
If there was a reward for any of them, that money would be funneled into orphanages and schools in the region. Nemesis Inc. was funded by Knight Oil money, along with contracts from the United States Government. It was well known in the community that Nemesis didn’t want reward money; their goal was justice.
Draven double-checked the GPS device strapped to his wrist. “We’re almost right on top of her, damn it. Where is she?” He refused to consider the fact that right on top of her could also mean she was buried under their feet. He tabbed on the extras on the GPS device to see if any of the teams they’d worked with previously had marked any hiding spots in the area on previous missions. Tabbing through the screens, his heart sank until he got to the last page. It could not be this simple, could it? “I got something.”
“Whatcha find?”
“Cave system.” He turned his arm to show Kristof. “Marked here by a task force during a mission a couple of years ago. They used a cave in this area for their Mobile TOC.”
Braddock grabbed his wrist and tilted the GPS toward himself, then glanced around them. “Damn jungle has taken over since then.” He thumbed on his comms. “Charlie Four to TOC, can you get in touch with Castello Moran over at Lynx? We need intel on a cave system they used for their TOC in this location a while back.”
“TOC, copy, Charlie Four,” Trev replied.
Draven agreed with Braddock, the jungle had claimed back whatever cave system Team Lynx had used previously. “Fan out. Keep searching.” She had to be in that cave. It was the only allowable reason for them not to be able to see her, the alternative of her being dead and buried under their feet was never going to be an acceptable option for him. “According to the notes, it’s on the left.”
“Stay frosty,” Kristof warned. “We don’t know if she’s on her own, or if she’s being held captive.”
Fear slid down the back of his neck and snaked down his spine. He knew the Charlie Team leader was only saying what made logical sense. But damn, this was not a fate he wanted for Indy. He walked slowly along the embankment, using the muzzle of his weapon to probe at the foliage.
“Charlie, All Stations, TOC,” Trev hailed them all. “There’s a tree with a broken off limb that looks like the letter L. As the broken branch probably kept growing, it might look different now though.”
“An L-shaped branch. I don’t see any L-shaped branches, TOC.”
“Keep looking,” Trev replied. “It has to be there somewhere.”
Finally, he glimpsed a change in color from the clay to stone and held up his hand, making a sign for silence. He scanned the trees looking for the branch Trev had mentioned, but couldn’t see it. He clicked on his comms once to let Trev know he’d found something, but didn’t want to say it out loud yet, and gestured toward the vegetation and mouthed silently to Braddock who stood to his right. “I think I found it.”
Braddock nodded, and both crouched lower, hopefully taking their heads and torsos out of the line of fire if someone took a pot shot at them from inside.
Draven dropped his night vision goggles down over his helmet, hopefully with those on he could at least see into the cave a little. He carefully shifted the long vines enough to peer through and into the cave.
Fuck!
Once I’ve saved her pretty butt, I get to yell at her for five minutes straight… right?
As if the fact he was running around the fucking Congo chasing her ass wasn’t indication enough that shit hadn’t changed much since they were kids, the machete he could see drawing blood from her neck did. If there was trouble to be found, you could guarantee Indy Fox was stuck right in the middle of it. Locking her up and throwing away the key was looking better and better by the second. Thankfully this time, Lizz wasn’t right there beside her. He glanced at the asshole, but he couldn’t tell if the dude spoke English or not just by looking at him.
I’m issuing every fucking terrorist with a name tag which says if they speak English or not from here on out.
Bitching, even if it was in his head, kept him from losing his shit, and he needed extra help in that department today. Speaking was risky. Not speaking and having her move while he took the shot, even more so. “Do you trust me, Indy?”
“Yes.”
The wobble in her voice straight up pissed him off. Even if she was a brat and she found more trouble than the cartoon cat and mouse, she didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve to be stuck in a damn hole in the ground with a machete to her throat, and death hovering on the horizon.
You should have been quicker. Should have…
He clamped down the internal berating thing he had going on and shut it down hard. Indy didn’t have the luxury of him losing his ever-loving mind right now. At least her reply had been clear enough that he could understand it. He leveled his weapon and peered through the sight.
Jesus, there isn’t much room for error.
The tango behind Indy wasn’t much taller than her. But as long as she didn’t move, he could take him. There was one thing guaranteed to happen in the next five seconds or so. The asshole in there had targeted Indy. To Draven that was unforgivable. That bastard holding a fucking machete to her throat better have his affairs in order because from now on, he was going to need someone else to raise his children, if he had any.
“Go right,” Draven ordered Indy softly, then inhaled and squeezed the trigger gently as he released the breath. Indy moved on his command and the tango lost the top of his head. Draven was already moving before the retort of his weapon firing had completely sounded. “Cover me.” He didn’t care who was on his ass, he needed to be sure he hadn’t hit her too. Fear raced down his neck, through his chest, and all the way into his soul. “Indy? Did I get you?” A glance at the open staring eyes of the tango told him that asshole was no longer a problem. He crouched next to where she curled on the floor and reached for her.
“Shit. Damn it. Fuck.”
Relief slammed into him, if she was swearing up a storm, she was fine. “Come here, brat. Did I hurt you?” He automatically fell into using the nickname he’d given her as a child.
“You deafened me, you asshole.”
Thank fuck.
He scooped her off the floor and into his lap. “What the hell kind of mess have you gotten yourself into now?”
“Don’t be a dick and just let me hug you,” she muttered against his chest. “And you better have wet wipes, because I have his icky blood all over me.”
He was so relieved she was okay he wasn’t even going to complain about her getting that same blood all over his vest. “Jeez, Indy.” He wrapped his arms around her and dropped his chin onto the top of her head. “Don’t scare the shit out of me like that again. My heart can’t take it.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her breath hot on his throat. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
“Your dad? He sent you in here. Why not call him to get you out?” He refused to tell her outright what he thought of her father right now. But the second he delivered Indy safe and sound back home… then the gloves could come off.
“Am I doing the usual with this one?” Braddock asked. “Or does the CIA need him?” He nodded in response, silently telling Braddock to follow the usual protocol for a dead tango. Photos, fingerprints, DNA, the whole freaking shebang.
In his lap, Indy stiffened. “You know?”
Oh, yeah, baby, I fucking know.
“My boss pulled you out of Eastern Europe a while back. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out eventually?” There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to tell her that he’d only found out as a result of her text message. He reached into one of the pouches on his belt for an individually wrapped wet wipe and ripped it open with his teeth.
“I can do it.” She took the wipe from him and washed her face with it. It took four of them. “Is it in my hair too?”
“Yeah, we’ll find you somewhere to clean it off.” It wasn’t lost on him that she’d completely ignored his probing on why he had to find out from Nemesis that she was not only a CIA agent, but a field agent. “But right now, we need to move in case the gunfire caught someone’s attention. We don’t want to have to fight our way to the extraction zone.”
“Yes, please, let’s not do that.” She sucked in a noisy breath and he was impressed at how she locked her shit down and got herself back in the game. She scrambled off his lap and he stood too.
He frowned when she took two steps toward the back of the cave. “Where are you going?”
“I have to get my gear,” she called over her shoulder. “I stashed it back here. I didn’t know they would show up outside. I was just looking for a bolt holt to catch my breath.”
“They weren’t chasing you?”
“Not unless there are CIA assholes dead out there too, no they weren’t. I think.”
“Those dudes were killed on the streets of the capital,” Draven told her. “At least that’s where their bodies showed up.”
“I didn’t kill them…”
“I know you didn’t, brat.” Draven clenched his jaw. She couldn’t seriously think he’d think she’d have killed them… right? “Unless they gave you reason to do it. Then I could see you taking them down.”
“You don’t have to kill a man to take him down. A sharp knee to the balls will do it, every single time.”
He winced and ignored the snort from behind them. Braddock could wince all he wanted. It didn’t change the fact what Indy said was true. A knee to the balls as a simple way to drop a man to the ground… if you could get close enough. Smarter would be putting a bullet through their brain stems. He just wasn’t entirely sure which Indy would do if she was pushed far enough. But he didn’t get a chance to ask anything further as she disappeared into the shadows at the back of the cave.