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Authors: Carolyn McCray

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Levont stepped in front of him
,
though.

You are kidding
,
right?

Davidson looked to Lopez.

The corporal nodded.

Davidson did just fine last week.


That was with an entire team. With vehicles, sticking to the roads,

Levont pressed.

But out here? In the jungle? How much forest tracking experience do you have?

Still bristling from the prickle of shame
,
Davidson was not in the mood to be questioned.

Enough.


Do you speak Lingala?

Levont asked bluntly.

Dude, you are a white guy in a tux who doesn

t even speak the official language of the country. How far exactly do you think you are getting?


He

s got a point,

Lopez stated.


No.

Davidson had lost her
.
H
e had to get Rebecca back.

Lopez dug his shoe into the dirt.

We

ve got GPS coordinates to guide us back to the village. Finding Rebecca out here in this


the corporal indicated to the dripping leaves that formed a green sky above their heads


i
s going to take some mad skills.

They shouldn

t even
been
having this discussion. If Brandt were here
,
they wouldn

t be. Brandt would already have struck out after Rebecca.


We

ve got to give Rebecca
and
Brandt the best chance at survival,

Lopez concluded.


I

ll find her,

Levont added.

Or die trying, I swear.


We

re not soldiers,

Talli chimed in.

We are a team. We

ve got to work as one.

Great. Talli being more logical than him. It didn

t get much worse than that.

Lopez must have read Davidson

s capitulation before Davidson even knew that he capitulated.


Levont,

Lopez said, handing him several extra weapons
,

g
o.


My last spotting marked her about eleven degrees north by northwest.

With a nod
,
the tall black man took the guns and ammo, tucking them into his tux

s pocket as he turned and headed into the forest. Davidson watched Levont

s back until it disappeared amongst the foliage.

Talli struck out in the opposite direction. Still
,
Davidson stood rooted in place. Not sure which direction to head.

Lopez patted him on the back.

I am going to leave it up to you,

the corporal said, then turned
,
walking backward. He looked over his shoulder, apparently making sure Talli was out of earshot before whisper
ing
harshly.

But
damn
, I could use a
real
sniper on this rescue mission.

Davidson sighed. Brandt

s chances did go down sharply if he didn

t join them. Whereas
,
Rebecca

s chances were best with Levont.


Flattery will get you everywhere,

Davidson said as he followed Lopez.


That and taking the plane elevator,

Lopez frowned.

I need to get
a
better name for it, but you get what I mean.

Unfortunately
,
Davidson did.

* * *

Brandt braced himself as the open
-
aired Jeep slid in the thick mud. If the driver didn

t correct
,
they were about
to
go off the side of a very steep cliff. Thankfully
,
the driver was probably born and raised amongst these treacherous, slick mountain

roads,

as he turned into the spin, hitting the gas, bumping them up and over the mudslide.

However
,
the Jeep in front of them did not fare so well. It couldn

t fight the force of gravity as the rear wheels went over the edge. The men tried to scramble from the vehicle as it hung from its front tires
,
but again
,
those laws of physics didn

t seem to give a rat

s ass. Which apparently neither did the men

s team. No one so much as reached a hand out as the Jeep slipped from its perch and plummeted down the side of the cliff
,
t
he men

s screams filling the misty mountain air.

Then quiet returned to the jungle.


See what the problem is,

the
lead mercanary
barked at the driver.

Using his legs, Brandt lifted himself off the seat
and
looked ahead, finding the problem that had brought this little convey to a screeching halt. Ahead of the lead Jeep was a huge gouge in the road. More than likely the Congonese government

s countermeasure to rebel activities. It was a common ploy. Cutting gouges in the road stopped motorized vehicles from disappearing back into the jungle
,
which made it much harder for the rebels to make blinding strikes in the lowlands. It could take hours to build any kind of stopgap measure to get across.

Brandt had never been so glad for a ruthless, oppressive government in his life.

Until now
,
the Disciples had been well organized and executed a
S
pecial
F
orces

style snatch. Too bad their luck seemed to
have
run out. As everyone

s did eventually. Had the Disciples prepared for this contingency? They were now six men down. Which meant that Brandt was still facing twelve
-
to
-
one odds. Odds that were now doable.


Frellan, we will
have to go by foot,

the merc leader
stated as he grabbed his pack from the Jeep. The Disciple didn

t seem any too happy by the fact. Guess the guy didn

t do as much research on the African side of this mission as he should have.

Brandt and his team had met with a similar problem last week
,
approaching from the eastern slope. However
,
they had brought sturdy planking along. Lopez had gotten them underway within ten minutes. Clearly
,
Frellan didn

t have anyone of Lopez

s caliber
,
which meant if they wanted to get the Jeeps across
,
they would have to stop, cut down trees, craft planks out of them
,
and hope they held the Jeep

s weight.

And every hour they delayed here trying to build their bridge on a sliding slope of mud was an hour the
a
rmy could spot them and send in troops.

Guess the Disciples were learning the hard way that Africa was a fickle mistress.

Worse
,
the group had only made it halfway up the mountain
,
and even the Jeep

s engines had strained at the grade. There was no way Brandt was going to make it in his current condition. And Frellan knew it.

The tattooed man drew in a deep breath.

Administer
the antidote.

Brandt kept his face placid, neutral, accepting.

But on
the
inside? Oh. On the inside, he was grinning ear to ear.

CHAPTER 5

═══════════
═══════

Pentagon, Washington
,
DC

1
0:59
a
.
m
.
(
EST
)

Bunny sat in a room not all that unlike the one back in South Carolina. Painted gr
a
y
,
with no windows and a stark metal table. Guess the Pentagon wasn

t big on spending their budget on interior d
e
cor. She shifted in her chair
,
trying to get comfortable. Even in a borrowed pair of slacks and
a
blouse from Emily, Bunny still felt woefully underdressed. The few people they had met coming in through the south parking entrance were in full dress uniform.

She sipped on her can of Fresca. Emily remembered her well, even the exceedingly rare flavor of grapefruit mint. Setting the can down carefully so as not to spill anything on the dozens of files scattered on the table, Bunny reached for the report on Brandt

s last mission.

These after-action reports read about as easily as a freshman

s term paper. For all of Brandt

s virtues, engaging prose was not one of them.

The door swung open as Emily and Prenner rushed in. Neither could hide the look on their faces. Bunny popped up from her chair.


What happened? Is it Brandt?

Bunny knew that he had activated his tracker and the Disciples had taken him back to Africa, but had his usefulness run its course?

Emily gulped
,
nodding to the chair. Bunny didn

t sit down. The woman sighed.

No. Brandt is still en route to the African village. No…

Emily gulped again.

The plane we believe was carrying Corporal Lopez

s team and Dr. Monroe was shot down deep within the Congo basin.

Bunny sat down. Hard.

Are you sure it was them?


Just before it was downed
,
it looked like someone was trying to break the sound barrier with a Le
a
rjet,

Prenner answered.

Okay, the lieutenant was right. That had to be Lopez
,
then. But if Lopez was at the helm, how the hell did they get shot down?


The Disciples?

she asked.

Her CIA handler shook her head.

The last satellite images we had showed a tribe on the move. I think this was simply
a
matter of opportunity for them.


Okay, then,

Bunny stated
,
shifting her mind out of freak
-
out mode and into figure
-
it
-
the
-
hell
-
out mode.

You guys have obviously scrambled some kind of rescue effort.

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