Page 61 of Keeping Astrid

“Good times, hey?” Angel came up beside him, a big grin on his face.

“The best,” he muttered as another mosquito decided his blood was tasty.

As much as he was mentally complaining, Growler couldn’t deny that it did feel good to be back in the thick of things. The rush of adrenaline had been continuous from the moment the plane had touched down in Brazil.

Their job was simple: go into the bowels of the Amazon and take out the leader of a cult who’d fled there after his compound in Peru had been raided by the authorities. Growler wondered why the FBI was involved, and why they were being sent to eliminate the guy and not, say, a SEAL Team, but his job wasn’t to ask questions. It was to follow orders. No doubt things would become clearer when they were back stateside. Not to mention, no way would Ox put them or the company in a situation that wasn’t legitimate.

In front of him, Ox held up his hand in a fist, and Growler immediately dropped to a crouch, as did Angel and Irish.

“Movement ahead,” Ox murmured through the comms. “Four guards surrounding the building.”

While they didn’t have all the equipment that was usually available when he’d been on a mission in the past, they had Cass watching their every move back in Los Angeles. On each of them was a small device which transmitted their location back to her. Ox also had a microscopic camera on his vest which was giving Cass a front row view of their location and the building they were about to enter. Through the camera, she could relay the number of heat signatures back to them so they knew what they were dealing with.

“Two people inside,” Cass reported. “Second person—innocent—and not in a situation to be a threat.”

What the hell did she mean by that?

Even though they were outnumbered, not by much, but still outnumbered, Growler was confident with the skill set of two former SEALs and two former Deltas, that they would be able to take down the guards and get their man.

“Fuck,” Irish mumbled.

Then it hit Growler what Cass had meant. Intense fury pulled at him—he was going to make the fucker pay. He only hoped that the person they were going to find with the former cult leader hadn’t been a prisoner for long.

While Cass may have said the second person in the cabin was an innocent, the guy they were here to eliminate had run a cult. He’d brainwashed many to do unspeakable things. No way was he or his teammates going to take a chance with anything or anyone.

“Angel and Irish flank around to the left. Growler, you’re with me,” Ox directed.

Slowly, they made their way to the right side of the cabin.

While it would be easier to rush through and take them head on, by coming from either side, they had the element of surprise on their hands. Fortunately, whoever had built the small building had created small tracks that surrounded the perimeter, enabling Growler and Ox and the others to get into position.

“On three. Radio silent. Cass, hit record and leave the room.” Ox issued the instructions quickly.

A spike of adrenaline pumped through Growler. Flexing his fingers around his rifle, he prepared himself for what was to happen next.

The men they were about to eliminate were chatting in Portuguese. Growler picked up the odd word or two, but he sent it to the back of his mind. His focus was on himself and Ox. He steadied his breathing and heart rate.

Ox gave a short nod, and Growler slung his rifle over his shoulder and grabbed his KABAR from his pouch on his hip. A quick slice across the throat was as effective as a bullet, only much quieter.

“Three. Two. Go,” Ox whispered.

In unison, he and Ox came up behind the men standing guard and swiped their necks. The man immediately slumped in Growler’s arms, and he lowered him to the ground. He caught the slightest sound of a grunt coming from opposite to where he stood and knew the others had all disposed of their men.

They took up position on either side of the door, and Growler grabbed his rifle. This time, all it took was a slight nod of the head from Ox for the action to happen. This may have been the first time they’d worked together as a team, but the way they moved into action, it was as though they’d been working together for years.

Angel slammed his foot against the door frame. Wood shattered as the flimsy door fell off its hinges. A muffled scream came from the bed in the middle of the room. Glancing over Ox’s shoulder, Growler made out their mark. He was balls deep in a young girl who looked only fourteen.

Without thinking of the consequences, Growler bounded forward and shoved the guy to the side, keeping his gun pointed at the middle of his forehead. He was aware of movement around the room, but he kept all his attention on the naked man on the ground.

Growler expected him to be cowering, wondering what the hell had happened, but the guy looked belligerent…smug almost.

“You can’t touch me,” he taunted.

The barrel of another gun joined Growler’s, pointing at the man.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Irish’s voice was low and deadly. “By order of the United States Government.”

Irish pulled the trigger before Growler could, and a perfect round hole marred the man's forehead. His naked body slumped to the ground, brain matter and blood covering the dusty wooden floor.

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