Page 78 of Love, Lies, and Celtic Knots

Chapter 1

Ryan

Ten Years Ago

The jungle is alive with noise, a cacophony of cicadas and distant bird calls, but all I can hear is the steady sound of my pulse in my ears. The air is heavy, thick with humidity and the scent of damp earth, making every breath feel like dragging in steam. My grip on the rifle is solid, my finger hovering just off the trigger.

“Eyes up,” I whisper into the comm, my voice barely audible but sharp enough to cut through the tension.

Leo is a shadow at my right, his movements fluid as he signals clear. Miles brings up the rear, scanning the thick vegetation for movement. We’re a three-man unit, deep in cartel territory, tasked with extracting two DEA agents who were stupid enough to get themselves snatched.

The target building looms ahead, a decrepit shack of corrugated metal and splintered wood that barely stands in the clearing. But we know better than to trust appearances.

“Visual on the shack,” Leo murmurs, his voice calm.

“Copy,” I reply, gesturing for us to fan out.

Leo takes position behind a fallen log, covering us as Miles and I move in. My boots are soundless on the dirt, the jungle swallowing every step.

We reach the shack, the stink of sweat and decay hitting me like a wave. My gut tightens. Something feels off, but I shove the feeling aside. We don’t have the luxury of hesitation.

“Stack up,” I command.

Miles nods, positioning himself on one side of the door while I take the other. Leo joins us a beat later, his rifle aimed and steady.

“Breach on my count. Three… two…”

I don’t get to “one.”

The door explodes, shards of wood spraying like shrapnel. A hail of gunfire erupts, tearing through the walls.

“Ambush!” I yell, diving for cover as bullets chew through the air.

Leo curses, returning fire through the smoke and chaos. I roll to the side, my rifle up, and fire off three controlled bursts. Shadows move inside the shack—cartel gunmen, not hostages.

“Hostages are dead!” Leo shouts.

I risk a glance inside. He’s right. The bodies of the two DEA agents are slumped in the corner, blood pooling beneath them. It’s a setup.

“Fall back!” I bark, my voice cutting through the cacophony. “Miles, lay down covering fire!”

Miles unleashes a torrent of bullets, giving Leo and me enough cover to retreat. The cartel is on us, their shouts and gunfire growing louder.

We weave through the jungle, the extraction point a hellish mile away. Bullets rip through the trees, splintering bark and sending leaves raining down like confetti.

“Left flank!” Leo warns, spinning and dropping one of the gunmen with a clean shot.

I swing my rifle, taking out another before he can draw a bead on Miles. The jungle is a nightmare of shadows and movement, every second a fight to stay alive.

“Keep moving!” I order, my voice hoarse.

The extraction point is close, but so are our pursuers. A grenade explodes to our right, the concussive force throwing us off balance.

“Shit!” Miles shouts, clutching his side.

“Leo, cover him!” I say, pulling Miles to his feet. “We’re almost there!”

The roar of the chopper cuts through the chaos, its rotors slicing the air above us. Salvation.

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