Page 26 of Fear No Evil

As Maggie shrugged off her rain jacket and then her T-shirt, tossing both atop her pack, eight sets of eyes fastened on her slim torso and white jogging bra. Her skin seemed to shrink. She hadn’t felt this vulnerable since running into Farid in the narrow street near her apartment.

Don’t think of that!

Jake’s bare chest garnered Mondo Gallo’s attention. Circling the taller man, he eyed the slabs of muscle that roped Jake’s arms and padded his pectorals.

“You’re strong, eh?”

“I go to the gym.” Jake mimed a chest press, holding a weighted bar.

Gallo punched him lightly in the stomach, and Jake’s tortoise-shell abs flexed. He’d grown chest hair that he hadn’t had when they’d gone swimming at Paris University’s indoor pool. The soft-looking russet-brown hair tapered nicely toward his naval. It was hard not to stare.

Themondodidn’t look convinced. “You know how to shoot apistola?”

“No, no.” Jake pointed to his eyes. “I can’t see.”

Gallo stepped closer, staring at him hard. “I’ll be watching you.”

Terrific. They were suspected already.

But then Gallo swung around and shouted at the kids to pick up their stuff and distribute whatever was in the burlap sacks. As the rebels dispersed armloads of clothing, Maggie was startled to realize two of them were females, maybe eighteen years old. One of them communicated an apology in her big brown eyes as she handed Maggie a camouflage jacket and a pea-green T-shirt.

Tunneling into the shirt, Maggie wrinkled her nose at the soapy smell it exuded. At least its soft fabric would protect her from the chafing jacket, which she buttoned up next. They were dressed like the dissidents now, minus the hats, which meant the JUNGLA wouldn’t be able to tell peacekeepers from guerillas. Worse and worse.

Once dressed, they were told to mount the mules, one for each team member. The small concession was heartening. As Jake helped her atop the burlap and leather saddle, Maggie wedged her boots into the stirrups, then turned to watch Jake vault awkwardly onto his mule. As he went to put his boots in the stirrups, he discovered them too short for his long legs and too small to wedge his boots into. He had yet to find a way around his predicament when Gallo swatted their mules into motion.

Whoa!The saddle swayed from side to side. Maggie quickly realized she had to cling to the pommel to keep from falling off. Glancing back at Jake, she found him doing the same thing while also squeezing the mule’s round belly with his thighs. How long could he keep that up?

As they meandered into a patch of bamboo, her gaze fastened on the razor-sharp spears lining either side of the trail. The product of machetes cutting through the undergrowth, those spears would impale anyone who fell off. She gritted her teeth,every muscle in her body rigid. Death by bamboo spike wasn’t any more appealing than a head-on collision in a tunnel.

Maybe Jake had been right about fighting fire with fire. It wasn’t working. But once they left the bamboo behind, she found she could relax her grip and catch her breath. Jake was still in one piece right behind her. So far, so good. If they could ride these mules the rest of the way, they’d be just fine.

As they reached the crest of a hill, gunfire ripped through the fronds and vines, startling their entire entourage.

Maggie’s mule reared. With a stifled scream, she slipped sideways from the saddle. Her foot caught in one stirrup, spilling her upside down. With her head just an inch from the ground, she heard Jake shout her name. A barrage of gunfire drowned it out.

Comandante Marquez roared an order, and his little army scattered.

Jerking her foot free, Maggie fell onto the trail, barely avoiding being trampled by the frightened mule.

Chaos had broken loose around them. Bullets peppered the trees and thumped into the humus-covered earth. The FARC dissidents had started firing back, putting the UN team members, who no longer wore their distinctive white jackets, squarely in the crossfire.

A frightened glance under her mule showed Jake herding the others‍—all except for Bellini, who’d slipped in the mud‍—toward a low-lying area on the far side of the path. Jake’s bravery roused her own. Not to be outdone, Maggie darted down the trail to help Bellini get up.

“Come on!” As she hauled the Italian in Jake’s direction, the whistle of a mortar shell had her shoving Bellini into the ditch where the team lay.

The next instant was a blur. She hit the ground, and the air knocked clean out of her as Jake landed on top of her. Fightingto inflate her lungs, she felt the earth tremble beneath her. Globs of mud and spongy lichen rained down on them.

“It’s the JUNGLA, isn’t it?”

Jake clapped a hand over her mouth, making her realize that in her stressed state, she’d spoken in English,

Clearly, the SOCOM admiral hadn’t managed to call off the Counter-Narcotics Jungle Company in time. Another barrage of gunfire echoed through the undergrowth, continuing for what seemed an eternity. With Jake draped over her, he was the one who’d be killed or at least horribly maimed if a mortar landed on him.

Oh, no way. Maggie tried to roll over, to squirm out from under him, but he had her thoroughly pinned.

“Reste immobile!”he grated in her ear.

The gunfire intensified. Adolescent voices shouted back and forth.

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