Page 56 of Extracted

Dallas squirmed. Leave it to Cole to go right to the heart of his dilemma. “Not with our current passports,” he said, his voice low. While Cole had said Carson could be trusted, that sentiment didn’t necessarily extend to the men two rows ahead of them.

“Mmm. Gimme until tomorrow. I’ll see what I can swing.”

Dallas thanked him again and disconnected. Returning his phone to his pocket, he settled back against the side of the SUV. The air inside the vehicle had cooled, and although stickiness still clung to his skin from spending days in the jungle, his body temperature was finally reaching a comfortable degree.

Gemma let out a little sigh.

Her words rang through his head and twisted his gut like a knife. If Cole could get them both out of the country, maybe he could convince her not to leave him . . .

Without sounding too desperate.

* * *

Gemma’s anxiety had shot through the roof when the men told them to hide under the blanket as they approached the first blockade. They’d made it through without a search, but Carson had warned them that the border-entry check would be more thorough.

She’d drifted in and out of sleep before the first blockade. Now, a few hours later, there was no chance of rest. She peeled back the wrapper of another protein bar—this one coconut, a welcome change from the chocolate-and-peanut-butter ones she practically lived off now. She made a silent vow to never touch a protein bar for the rest of her life, if she made it out alive.

“Five minutes until we hit the border,” Carson bellowed over the music.

The gooey coconut curdled her stomach. She folded the wrapper and stuffed it inside her bag. Dallas shoved their backpacks under the seat and pulled out his gun. They got into position under the blanket. He hugged her to his middle, one hand under her body, holding her to him, his other arm rested over her hip, the gun in his palm.

He nudged her side. “Last one and we’re almost home.”

Thankfully he couldn’t see her grimace. “Barely,” she whispered, even though the vehicle still rolled along. “We’re still a long way from home.”

“Yeah.” His voice was brusque. “But we’re closer now.”

She sighed. They might not be lost in the middle of the Amazon jungle anymore, but once they emerged into society, they had a whole new danger to be aware of. As soon as they made it to a motel—if they made it to a motel—she’d call Charlene and clear up any misgivings. Surely a helping hand from the CIA would guarantee their safety to some degree. Heck, even just a new alias and passport would make all the difference.

The vehicle slowed and Gemma closed her eyes. The temperature was several degrees warmer under the blanket. She inhaled through her nose. Her heart rate rose. The men up front muttered, their words unintelligible. The music shut off and the sound of a window motoring down reached her ears.

Carson said something loudly in Spanish. A voice, the guard, she assumed, replied in the same tongue. He seemed to be asking questions.

Dallas’s breath stirred the hair at her temple, and she moved her palm to rest it on the outside of his hand holding the gun. Her pulse beat rapidly through her head, drowning out the words that came too quickly for her to translate.

Boots crunched on the dirt and rock outside the car. Gemma dug her nails into the thick skin of Dallas’s knuckles. His other arm pressed tighter to her belly, as if he could absorb her into his body and make them disappear.

The hatchback squeaked open and Gemma’s heart stalled in her chest. Her eyes flickered beneath her eyelids as panic took hold of her senses.

The blanket flew up.

She turned to stone. Her breath hissed through her nose . . . the last breath she’d take. She waited for the rough hands that would drag her away from Dallas, the bullet that would enter her head . . .

Silence.

She fluttered open her eyes and stared at a man dressed in cargo pants and a T-shirt. He wore a beret, and a cigarette hung from his mouth. He pulled down his sunglasses.

There were shouts in Spanish from a man—another guard?—as more footsteps echoed around the car.

The man snapped the blanket back over her head and shut the hatch.

Her breath spiraled out of her lungs. Air rushed in again immediately. Dallas’s abdomen moved rapidly, as if he’d been as close to having a heart attack as she’d been.

“What just happened?” she croaked, her voice well below a whisper.

“We just bribed our way into Ecuador.”

There was another exchange between Carson and the guard, followed by a jovial laugh. The SUV rumbled to life and started moving. Several beats passed.

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