Page 9 of Freeing Camila

Baker smiled. “In a manner of speaking. But they didn’t come home empty-handed.”

“A hostage rescue operation?” wondered Flint.

“Wasn’t supposed to be. The mission’s objective? Discreet intelligence gathering.” Baker’s eyes landed on Jeeves with that bit of information, and he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what the legend said next. “There was a lead on him,” he finished cryptically but Jeeves knew exactly who he was talking about.

“Who?” Haley asked.

“El Sombra,” Jeeves mumbled, the name that was synonymous with his nightmares. Otherwise known as The Shadow, the man was an evil ghost that worked out of Colombia. The leader of a militant guerrilla group had been responsible for the slaughter of dozens of women and children. At least the dead ones got off easy. The girls he deliberately separated from the others were in for a fate worse than death.

The weight of Liam’s death, a direct result of El Sombra’s actions, settled heavily on everyone’s shoulders with the mention of his name. No one knew who he was, a phantom leaving no trace but chaos in his wake, disappearing after each attack, making tracking him nearly impossible. He should know. His relentless pursuit of the man had spanned three years, yet Jeeves’ efforts remained fruitless.

Unable to take out his frustrations on the man responsible, Jeeves had fucked up and blamed the woman he and Liam had been sent to Colombia to protect.

Sutton Masters was a highly respected photographer and Liam’s fiancée. It should have been an easy mission. The gathering was supposed to be peaceful. It ended up being anything but. El Sombra attacked and Liam died protecting his fiancée. That’s when Jeeves had lost his ever lovin’ mind, blaming her for his death.

During the attack, Liam had to physically pull her away to safety; she was so engrossed in photographing the horrific scene, meticulously documenting every detail. In Jeeves’ messed up mind, if she had run after the first shots, Liam wouldn’t have been killed.

His reasoning was fucked up, and he knew it. That misplaced hatred, accompanied by a crushing guilt, had burdened him for over two years, a constant, suffocating presence. It was not until recently that he had confronted the guilt and shame he had been carrying. And it had started with a heartfelt apology to the one person who deserved it the most.

However, a different kind of frustration, one that was steadily growing and dominating his thoughts and actions, began to consume him. The endless chase ate at him; his quest for justice against El Sombra, or perhaps revenge, was a burning fire within. It made no difference to Jeeves whether El Sombra met his end through the punishment of justice or the merciless grasp of revenge; either outcome was equally acceptable.

“Because of Sutton Master’s pictures, we were able to run a search of the emblem that donned the uniforms of El Sombra’s men,” Baker said, pulling Jeeves out of his thoughts. “We got a hit which led the SEALs to a compound deep in the jungle north of Bogota.”

“What’d they find?” Flint asked.

“Not enough,” Baker relented, his frustrations at tracking down the elusive shadow just as evident as his own. “They were pulling out. El Sombra long gone. Only a handful of men and a dozen prisoners. All young Columbian girls,” he paused here for some reason which only became clear with his next words. “And one American.”

“What the fuck?” Hoot cursed.

“What was she doing there?” Voodoo wondered.

“She’d been sold to the group . . . by her father.” The team responded to Baker’s words with a chorus of colorful curses, a testament to the shocking nature of his pronouncement.

“God. Her father did that to her?” Haley gasped.

“From what I’ve gathered, he worked one branch of their trafficking ring in the US but fucked up. His only recourse was to hand over his daughter.”

“That’s fucked up,” Eggs spat.

“No kidding,” agreed Hoot.

The group began to converse amongst themselves, their shared outrage at the man’s actions—selling his own daughter—clearly evident in their tone and the intensity of their discussion. None of them, with their deeply ingrained protective instincts, could even begin to fathom such an act. Jeeves couldn’t even begin to imagine the turmoil of emotions that girl must have experienced. Betrayed by the person who should have been her greatest protector.

“Right. So what do you need from us?” Flint asked, bringing the individual conversations to an end.

“The boys brought her back with them to Hawaii, where she spent over a month recovering. As you can imagine, the women, my wife included, took her under their wing. But word got out about her rescue. It was only a matter of time before her father found her again. I wanted to prevent that. I gave her a new identity and sent her to Bell Creek.”

“You sent her here?” Flint asked.

“Alone?” Haley wondered.

“Yes, on both accounts. That’s where you come in. Need you to look after her. She’s determined to start life anew. Got a spine of steel, that one.” To Jeeves, the respectful way in which Baker had spoken about the girl implied a level of admiration and deference that was quite apparent.

He couldn’t help but wonder who this girl was, but when a picture popped up on the screen next to Baker’s image, he bit back a curse. The familiar brown eyes in the image seemed to stare directly at Jeeves, causing him to gape in astonishment as he recognized their owner. He quickly shuttered his expression hoping the others didn’t notice his reaction.

He should have known the little sprite wasn’t just another pretty face. There had been something in those deep brown orbs that spoke of past troubles.

“This is Camila Pierce.”

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