Page 71 of Fear No Evil

Bless Charles for drawing a line in the sand. “The sun is almost down.” He crossed to the hearth to extinguish the embers.

As the team members withdrew from him, Gallo sent them one last smirk before turning and walking out the door, pulling it shut behind him. Darkness descended with startling speed.

The instant Gallo was gone, Jake rolled smoothly into his hammock, even as he held onto her hands.

Boris’s voice floated toward them. “Gallo meant no harm, I’m sure.”

Maggie laughed at the naïve comment. “Are you? I’m not.”

Charles deflected everyone’s attention to Jake. “Are you okay there, Jacques?”

Jake’s reply was a soft snore.

Maggie answered for him. “He’s asleep already.” Yet, even as she spoke, her sleeping prince lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a sweet kiss in the center of her palm. Poignant emotion lanced Maggie’s heart.

His soft whisper just reached her ears. “Je’taime,Lena.”I love you.

The words stole her breath. He had said them often, twelve years ago, back in Paris, his blue eyes bright with emotion. She had never replied in kind, for fear of raising his hopes.

I love you, too, Jake.

She stood over him now, awash with tenderness and yearning, as well as anticipatory grief. As she’d done twelve years ago, she would soak her pillow with tears. Unable to sleep without him, she would prowl around her shared apartment, and when sleep still didn’t come, she would run, and run, and run, but the ache would never go away.

Twelve years ago, the choice between Jake and her career had been black and white. Since her early teens, her father had put ideas into her head about the importance of protecting democracy and about the advantage she had being a native Spanish speaker, attractive, and smart. She could make the world a better place.

“Look what happened to Venezuela,”he would say. “That’s what happens when democracy breaks down. Tyrants like Maduro seize the reins of power and refuse to relinquish it.”

She’d heeded her father’s words until they formed the foundation of her own ideology: Maggie was here for the United States of America, not for herself, not for Jake. Yet, look where that had gotten her? She’d been so traumatized by her experience in Morocco that she wasn’t the same woman. It was only with Jake that she could be herself. That she could sleep without nightmares. But given their careers, they could never be together. One or the other would be away on an assignment. It would never be as it was now.

Still holding his hand, she envisioned the next twenty-four hours. If the exchange went off without a hitch, then this might be her last night in Jake’s company. Yet, she couldn’t even lie next to him, not in a hammock.

She did the next best thing. Without releasing his hand, she sank into her hammock, wincing with pain as her hip rubbed against the stretchy fibers. She would hold on to his hand for as long as possible, keeping their fingers entwined. She missed him already.

Her father’s advice on the day she’d graduated from CIA training echoed in her head.“Anyone can fall in love, Maggie. But if love means surrendering all that you’ve worked for and even what you believe in, then who needs it? A strong woman doesn’t need a man to feel whole.”

Wallowing in loss, Maggie blinked back tears.Clearly,I’m not as strong as I used to be.

The descent to the valley on the eastern edge of El Castillo took place on ATVs. Jake held fast to Lena as their ATV, driven by a rebel they’d just met, bumped and fishtailed down the winding, rutted track.

Fortunately, Lena’s hold on the driver was as tenacious as she was, and they didn’t fall off. When they zipped past a familiar rocky outcrop, she let go of the man long enough to point out the landmark to Jake. Yep, he’d seen it before, too, which meant the rebels were driving them in circles, trying to confuse them. No doubt, they feared the JUNGLA would seek to debrief the UN team once they returned to civilization.

At least, the peacekeepers couldn’t have asked for better weather for traveling. Patches of blue sky flashed here and there where the canopy thinned. Birds with vivid green, red, and blue feathers startled away at the roar of their ATVs. The air streaming past them was crisp and cool, smelling of freshly washed leaves. But when Maggie pointed out a pile of crates hastily concealed by cut branches, it was a grim reminder that the only thing about to come of the FARC’s rebellion was death and destruction. He hoped the teen rebels he’d befriended wouldn’t be traumatized‍—or worse, be maimed or killed.

The path forked as it had before, and, this time, their driver broke left, following Gallo and two other rebel drivers, each of whom carried two peacekeepers apiece, while David and his squad all rode an ATV of their own. Several hundred meters later, their convoy slowed to a stop, right there on the trail.

Confused by the sudden stop in the middle of the wilderness, Jake didn’t know the reason for it until the ATVs cut their engines. The sound of rushing water made it evident there would be a river crossing, one that Boris hadn’t seen before, given his look of confusion. Clearly, this wasn’t the way to El Olvido.

In a silent procession, they walked until the trees cleared, exposing the view.

Lena grabbed Jake’s hand in what was probably a knee-jerk reaction. A gushing river, about fifty yards wide, had carved a deep divide into the side of the mountain. It swilled toward the valley, churning up mud and tearing away bushes and small trees, which rode away on its foaming surface.

At the sight of the rope bridge that would take them across the gorge, the team members groaned in unison as Jake squeezed Maggie’s hand reassuringly. At least they wouldn’t be crossing via a wooden box on cables. Yet the bridge itself was narrow, built with fraying rope and rickety planks, clearly designed to be crossed single file. A fine mist rising from the water dampened both the ropes and the boards, making them slippery and subject to decay.

No way had the crates they’d glimpsed earlier been carried across this bridge. So, why bring the team this way when a safer route obviously existed? Either Gallo got his jollies out of scaring his guests, or the FARC didn’t want them running into the Venezuelans bringing weapons in. That had to be the reason.

“Not to worry.” Boris kept a reassuring grasp on Esme’s arm. “Just picture the helicopter waiting for us on the other side.”

Esme, pale with fear, managed to nod.

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