Page 14 of Wired Courage

“A late lunch is waiting for you. Very nutritious, to build up your strength,” Nam said. “The fresh vegetables that you like.” He had remembered her tastes, from her other visit.

Sophie touched his arm. “Thank you. I’m sorry I was so rude.”

He inclined his head. “You miss your baby. I understand.”

“I have to get in shape as quickly as possible.”

“Of course you do. Mr. Hamilton told me that would be your priority.”

“I will need . . .”

“We have everything that you will need,” Nam said.

Sophie settled back against the seat and closed her eyes to rest. Workouts would begin that afternoon.

Chapter Twelve

Day Seventeen

Jake leaned in close to view the waterproof tablet monitor, his shoulder brushing Hamilton’s. Rhinehart was on the move, a camera fixed to his goggles showing them jungle lit green by night vision as the operative worked his way toward the edge of the Yam Khûmk?n’s grounds. Using thermal imaging, they’d been able to identify the sentry points around the compound and Rhinehart had already successfully avoided several. His mission, this time, was simple: plant a camera as close to the main temple as possible.

They needed confirmation that the baby was inside, and where exactly she was located.

Jake tightened a fist.This had to work. Because so far, nothing else about the mission had gone well.

They’d taken the chopper as far inland as they dared, before landing at a strategic location to be joined by a Security Solutions team of operatives. Five well-trained men with military and law enforcement backgrounds and an arsenal of weapons had rendezvoused with them at the checkpoint, and they’d secured choppers for their return.

Thom Tang had procured their guide, a native man of few words, and those he did speak were in Thai. Hampered by mud, mosquitoes, snakes, and vegetation, they’d worked their way, traveling parallel to a narrow supply road, to within a couple of miles of the compound.

Hamilton had deployed his satellite monitoring, and they’d kept an eye on the stronghold for any unusual activity. So far, there had been nothing to see from above but the daily drilling of the ninjas, first in neat rows, and then in sparring pairs.

“They’re not ninjas,” Hamilton had said when Jake first called the black-clad martial arts practitioners that. “Just recruits getting brainwashed.”

“Don’t know what else you’d call them,” Rhinehart chimed in. “Those recruits are pretty impressive. Fortunately, we’ve got firepower like Ol’ Betsy here.” He’d patted his assault rifle fondly.

“We need to do everything we can to avoid a confrontation,” Jake growled. “Our baby is in there, a hostage.”

And that was the crux of the matter. They were up against a large group—estimates gleaned from the satellite imagery ranged from one to three hundred. These were trained martial artists with armed guards at every compass point of an ancient stone temple complex—and they had no real idea of where Momi might be stashed inside that heavily guarded maze.

Once they had a visual on the baby, though, they could work on an extraction plan.

Jake swatted a mosquito. When would his body, riddled with welted bites, begin to get used to the little bloodsuckers? Just one of a million discomforts in the current situation. None of it mattered. The mission objective, their baby, was what mattered.

Sophie was probably so pissed at him and Hamilton. Jake pictured Sophie prowling the island looking for escape, enraged and terrified for her child, wanting to kick his ass first and Hamilton’s second. Hopefully that stage hadn’t lasted too long and she’d moved on to healing and recovering her strength. She’d forgive him when he returned with Momi in his arms . . .

“Steady now,” Hamilton whispered, drawing Jake’s attention back to the grainy green feed lighting up the tablet. “Steady.”

Rhinehart crept around a stone parapet and entered the outer courtyard of the stronghold. He planted a surveillance node on the wall, positioned to take in one of the slit-like doorways. He then sidled inside.

The unlit passageway was so narrow that Rhinehart’s sturdy shoulders brushed either side of it. All they heard was the man’s rasping breaths, his whispered commentary. “This place is a maze. Don’t know how much deeper I can get in here without . . .”

A figure loomed out of the dark and they heard a query in Thai. “Where are you going?”

“To shit,” Rhinehart growled back in that same language. A loose cowl over his head concealed his face. “Want to watch?”

The guard grunted and waved him on.

Rhinehart reached an open room lined with beds. Rows of sleeping ninjas on cots filled the space, the sheer number of them making the hair rise on Jake’s neck. The operative walked quickly and quietly through the room, headed for an opening on the other side, moving like a man who knew where he was going and why.

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